


When a Survivor Bullies

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Series: Weirdo's Slasher/Bad Guy Stories [8]
Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Betrayal, Bullying, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loneliness, Love Confessions, M/M, Neglect, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader has scars, Recovery, References to Depression, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24488335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: You're a new survivor. At first things were going alright until one day something snapped and all the other survivors began to bully you. Badly. So bad that it's bothering the killers. Neither you nor the killers understand why the survivors are acting this way. Maybe you can find out the answers together?
Relationships: Dwight Fairfield/Evan MacMillan | The Trapper, Frank Morrison/Reader, Herman Carter | The Doctor/Reader, Michael Myers/Reader
Series: Weirdo's Slasher/Bad Guy Stories [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744741
Comments: 190
Kudos: 889





	1. The Concern of The Witness

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. This story is particularly alarming and graphic, so if you see anything triggering in the tags, please take caution. I do plan for this to have a happy ending, but only after the rough tidal waves have ended. I'm sorry if it's a bit extreme. I'll let the audience decide which killer should be the readers significant other. Got a recommendation? Don't be afraid to say it.
> 
> Here we go *cracks knuckles*

You were barely even there for two weeks when it began. First the vigorously confusing time line and switch of reality, to endless bullying from the very people who were supposed to be on your side. You had tried your very hardest to adapt to the whole killer/survivor shtick, and it felt like things were falling into place rather gracefully. You aced the generators, you learned how to use a medical kit, you could run good. It was starting to settle in real well even though you still had difficulty accepting the whole reality of it all.

But one day, that changed. It all just... changed.

The survivors started to treat you like a puppet, constantly calling you out, alerting killers of your position, leaving you to die on hooks, always calling you offensive names and commencing severely dramatic actions that hurt you dearly. Of course in the beginning they were skeptical of you, but at least they seemed to tolerate your existence for the time being. You didn't understand why the sudden change. It wasn't like you stuck out with your casual jeans, black shoes, or turtleneck sweaters. In fact, you were trying to do the world a favor by covering up your alarming, disfigured scars. Some times you even wore a scarf or handkerchief around your face to hide the scars there, but it was frustrating and irritated your fragile skin. And if your appearance was the reason they were acting so grotesque, you didn't know how to resolve it. Keeping up a facade to keep treating them kindly and risking your life to save them didn't seem to be getting you any achievement. Yet still you tried.

But with every passing day, the bullying got worse, and your feelings dropped further and further into the painful acids of your stomach. Doubt, helplessness and shame ate on you like a spider to a fly. No matter how nice you tried to be, the survivors still treated you like a personal punching bag, a filthy ragdoll, a hilarious abomination. The pain from their words iced through your veins causing every nerve and emotion to remain as cold and as lonely as a frozen winter pond. Loneliness chewed on the edges of your soul, and hopeless abandon stayed on constant alert by your side, silently watching every time you collapsed. The humiliation was probably the worst considering that the killers had now certainly more than seen enough of your pathetic nature every time one of the survivors decided to pull one of their putrid, vile "pranks" on you.

Little did you know, the killers were actually more affected in ways you would never imagine.

.... 

In one match, you all had sprouted in Ormond. Timidly you had followed David, Meg and Nea to the big building in the middle. Quietly, you had started meddling with the generator with Meg before hearing strange laughter and getting a tap to the shoulder. "Hey, (y/n)," David was smirking down at you, his eyes not promising in the slightest, "Come here for a second."

You could feel the uncertainty clawing at you, but knew that David was a forceful man so you hesitantly follow him anyway. The boards beneath your feet croaked and you absently wonder where the killer was. Just before you made it outside, David turned and looked strickly down at you, his expression serious and threatening. "Take off your shoes," He demanded suddenly.

You flinch at his tone and squint your eyes, feeling the sharp pierce of snow sparkling just out of the corner of your eye. Why'd he want you to take off your shoes? 'To be a jerk', your mind spoke and heart throbbed.

As if you were taking too long, David took a foreboding step forward and raised his fist, "Do I need'a say it again, bitch?"

You shook your head, arms trembling as you lift your leg up and tear off your shoes. The fear had your body unbalanced and shaky, but you managed to get the other shoe off without falling. From there, David reached out and yanked you outside by the forearm. Your toes curled and tensed at the intense bite of snow the ground provided and you suck in a sharp breath to try and calm your zigzagging mind. Once he had pulled you out a few meters, he threw you hard down onto the ground. You yelped at the liquid rush of pain emitting from your shoulder as it took the course of the landing. Hissing, you blink, fixing to sit up only to be yanked forward by the scruff of your shirt. The sound of a particularly familiar bottle ratting snapped your anxiety and had your eyes shooting open within half seconds. And what happened had you throwing your arms up and screaming out in pure and utter stinging pain.

They had sprayed you in the face with black spray paint.

You fell back in the snow, body writhing as their faint laughter grew quieter in the distance. Hastily you rub your stinging eyes, trying to rid them of the dark, sticky intrusion. It was easily a hundred times worse than having soap or hair caught in your eyes. It felt like your entire skull was melting at a terribly slow pace. You cried, sobbing as you rocked yourself, the pain coursing through your blood stream.

In the height of the moment, you hear something. The ever quick approach of a heartbeat. Sobs still formulating, you stand up only to fall back down a step later at the loss of feeling in your overwhelmingly frozen feet. By that time the heartbeat was drowning your senses, and you were desperately calling out, "Kill me! Please! Kill me!"

The Legion leader looked down at you, knife lowered but hesitating in its path. He tilted his head, face forming a large grimace behind his mask as he took in the sight of your struggling form. No shoes and a shot of spray paint to the face? Dang. Guess Freddy wasn't kidding about these survivors having a temper with you or something. Whatever you did to piss them off though, it really didn't need to go this far. Frank looked from the can of disgarded spray paint to your separated shoes and then back at you. Yeah, definitely uncalled for.

"Please..." You sob, voice growing hoarse from the cold and all your begging.

Frank kneeled down in front of you, and you jerked at hearing an unfamiliar voice ask, "Who did this?"

"Kill me," You whine, fully aware that you were the center of his attention, "Please, just kill me."

"Tell me which fucker did this to you," The Legion demanded in a tone that sounded almost as scary as David's. 

"They did!" You threw your arms out, uncaring about anything anymore. Just as long as the pain ended, "Now please... Kill me!" You couldn't take it anymore.

As if having mercy, Frank picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. Luckily there was a hook just a few feet away. He disposed you on it and watched as you immediately went to try and pull yourself off, purposely slipping to summon the entity. He stared at your twisted face of agony and pain and how the intensity of your clenched shut eyes wouldn't be enough to calm down the immense pain you must have been feeling. Of course he was curious to know why they were treating you this way, but a part of him believed there wasn't any good reason at all.

So after watching you die, Frank went off to kill everyone else.

.... 

In another match you had all thankfully sprouted apart in the Yomaka Estate. The killer was undoubtedly Michael Myers if the instant downings weren't any indication. For a good majority of the time you were able to sneak around, avoiding the killer and the survivors. You got one generator done and even saved Quentin off the hook. After helping him patch up, the both of you began to work on a generator together. Once it was three quarters of the way finished, Quentin suddenly stood up and moved behind you. At first you thought he might be cleansing a totem, but the shove to your back suggested otherwise.

In mid drift, your hand slipped and ended up getting caught up on the nasty, spinning internals of the vastly powered generator, and you screamed louder than you ever had in your life. The sound of bone crunching from your smashed fingers could surely be heard if listened closely enough. You tried to yank your hand out, but it was stuck and slowly beginning to be ate up by the machine.

Your spine rippled with pain. Your arm felt like it was about to snap off. You screamed and choked and sobbed, unable to break free from the bone crushing grip. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the tall, quiet silhouette of the Shape and immediately felt your eyes water. "Kill me, just-" You couldn't even speak as you release another ear wrenching shriek as more bones were being crushed in your hand.

Michael had witnessed what happened from afar stalking in the shadows, and took pity on you immediately. You hadn't been hooked but he had his advantages. After hearing your bustling scream of pain, he yanked you up by the collar and shoved his knife right where he knew would shut your lights out the quickest. Your body went limp in his grip and your screaming cut off faster than the rain could fall. The only thing left to implicate your trauma was the continuing sound of crushing bone the generator provided. Michael gently laid your body down and broke the generator, taking a moment to absorb the intensity of what just happened before walking off to kill the rest of the survivors. Most specifically, Quentin. 

.... 

But the worst of all took place at Lery's memorial institute. David, Ace and Jeff found and immediately cornered you, their devious smirks not anything close to comforting. "You know," Ace rubbed his chin and said casually, "One of our main goals here is to figure out as much as we can about the killers... especially the ones who really know how to kick our ass."

"And we do that by trickin' em," David grabbed your shoulder in a painfully tight grip causing you to flinch.

Jeff pulled out a long piece of torn cloth from his jacket pocket and handed it over to Ace, saying in his deep tone, "And we're gonna need your help for this one."

Ace smirked evilly, pulling the cloth tight in both his hands, "Let's see if the Doctor liked to _rape_ his victims."

Your eyes widened impossibly fast and your body went automatically tense, but before you got to scream, they pounced. David pulled you against his chest, holding your arms overhead with some help from Jeff while Ace forced the cloth into your mouth and tied it around your head. After making sure you were mute, Jeff tore your pants down, threw your shoes across the room and went for your panties. You thrashed and squirmed, putting in all your might to get away, but they were strong. Your screams and shouts went muffled through the cloth in your mouth as the cool air began to greet your bare skin. David squeezed your arms painfully tight as he helped Ace slip your sweater and bra off.

Then they forced you to turn around, slamming you to your knees with a pained keen. To your severe horror, there was a mental ward chair in front of you, decorated with a large arrangement of restraints. David and Jeff grabbed your arms and placed them through the straps on the armrest. Ace tightened them in place from there and hit the back of your head when you began to get too loud.

You whined, terror seeping into the heart of your being. You were naked and vulnerable. One hundred percent. You couldn't speak, couldn't scream or beg. It was freezing and they had taken your clothes. You quickly moved your head back and forth, begging them with your eyes not to do this. But they had already gathered your clothes and were now walking away, past the doors of the filthy bathroom you were in.

After they left, you turn your head back to the chair and feel an immediate rush of tears threatening to spill over. And you let them. You had had enough of this treatment, and nothing could ever make you understand why you were receiving it. Every day they were taking it to new extremes. You honestly weren't sure how much more you could take. The rejection had been eating apart your heart for so long now. Nothing really came as a surprise anymore but that still didn't stop the trauma of each painful experience from happening. 

You cry quietly, knees and feet sore from the cold, hard floor, and wrists suffocating in the death grip Ace had secured them in. You lower your head, tears streaming down your face as shame, humiliation, betrayal and fear blistered your naked body. The cold air from the nearby entrance rushed over your nude body, causing goosebumps to appear and a small tremble to take at your limbs. You breathe out, damming the world and how it was treating you.

Why? You blinked, unable to wipe the invasion of tears and snot away. Why was this happening to you? What had you done to deserve whatever these lunatics were doing to you? What changed in their hearts to make them engage in any of these unfair and unjust actions? Why did it have to be you? You whimper, thinking about how you would never unleash these sorts of actions upon anyone.

In a sudden burst of panic and pain, you scream through the cloth over your mouth as a painful spurt of electricity raced through your veins. You tensed up, toes and knees pressed painfully hard against the ground as you shuffled in your small prison. There was no way the Doctor didn't hear that. You whimpered, the humiliation and fear scraping along the outside of your soon-to-be ruined skin. You tilt your head downwards when the heartbeat appeared, and hoped that whatever the Doctor decided to do, he would do it fast.

When the Doctor entered the bathroom, he had most certainly not been expecting to find a naked, mute survivor bound to one of the patient chairs. He halted in his tracks, staring down at your bare skin and cowering stance. The discrete sound of whimpers a lost tune in the echoing room. He slowly walked forward, gazing at the big, brutal scars on your back and arms, the color and form of your hair reminding him of something. Something the others had told him. A survivor being unfairly treated in the matches, he believed, and now sought the very proof.

You lowered your head, trying to press it into your arm as much as you could, not wanting to see or attract anymore attention. Your body was shaking madly, and your eyes beginning to water up once again. The Doctor's heartbeat was inevitable now. It was only a matter of seconds before he did what you imagined never being able to forgive.

Herman stopped beside you and reached down. You wince, breathing in through your messy nose as his rough, overheated hand brushed your right palm for a second before tugging at the restraint. You blink in confusion when it was unfastened and your arm was set free. And the same happened for the other side. You slowly bring your shaking hands close to your chest, inspecting them like they were a hallucination before feeling the smallest tug of the cloth being undone from the back of your head. You watch as it fell between your sore, quivering knees, cold tear streaks drying on your pale cheeks as you turn your head back to look up at the Doctor.

He was grabbing something from the cot near the back of the room. You turn, shakily lifting yourself a little until noticing him approach, his bright, constant open eyes truly terrifying. You thought he might try to pounce you, your eyes shooting back toward the chair. But instead of rough handling, a stick to the back or anything of the brutality category, a big, soft blanket was gently placed over your shoulders. You gasp at the feeling and look back up at the Doctor who had his hand descended down in front of you.

Fingers reaching to grip the blanket together in front of your chest, you use the other hand to take his. His skin was rough, oddly textured and warm. You almost wanted him to take you just so that you could feel all that body heat encompass your cold, beaten form, but the gratefulness you felt overpowered every other thought. He guided you to the waiting room and pointed to a chair. You nodded, wrapping the blanket tightly around you before sitting down. He tilted his head at you a few times, but ended up walking away in a battle ready stance.

As soon as he was gone, you snuggle into the blanket as much as you possibly can, trying to create and absorb as much heat as you could. The air from the entrance stung your eyes and nose, but you ignored it. Your heart pounded in relief so strong you didn't think you'd be able to recover. Many killers granted mercy when you wanted to die during a painful moment, but none ever went through such extremes as to actually help you. Rivaling in your thankfulness and rare fortune, you wince every time you hear a loud, sharp cry from David or the others. You would go and save them, but what they did was unforgivable and the Doctor signaled for you not to move. Why would you betray him when he had helped you so?

After about fifteen minutes, the halls grew unbearably quiet and the wind whipped in more violently. You shivered despite being able to create some body heat, watching the entryways for the Doctor to appear. And when he did, you had never been more lifted. He had brought your stolen clothes. The pile laying in his blood soaked arms. You didn't mind though. Blood was a permanent stain here, and he had helped you so much. 

Herman sat your clothes down beside you and wandered out the institute entrance to open the gate. You hover underneath the blanket as best you could while unfolding your clothes, managing a small smile at the fact that he had actually folded them to begin with. You put your underwear, pants and shirt on, slipping the blanket off to drag on your shoes. No matter the coolness of the clothes, you still felt much, much better now that they were on.

After you were all set, you look to the Doctor who was waiting at the entrance and slowly walk towards him. Once you were within five feet, you got down to your knees and bowed your head. "Thank you," You say quietly, but the gratefulness was still there, "Thank you so much."

It was something to consider terribly cliché and ridiculous, but you were _grateful_. Purely so. No one had been nice to you in weeks, and this kindness felt like an infrequent gift. This man, a killer no less, had spared you and shown you genuine care and maybe even respect. He could have taken advantage of you in your vulnerable state but chose not to, and your heart ached in appreciation. He could do whatever he wanted to with you. You didn't care. His kindness deserved reward no matter how it came.

You didn't know that Herman was thoroughly spectating you, observing your movements and the way your quiet, timid voice seemed so afraid to speak at all. A mouse is what he would compare you to, especially with the way you were being treated. And this getting to your knees to thank him.... Truly unnecessary and unsettling, but he came up with enough theories to understand the reasoning behind it. He took a step back, waited until you lifted your head, and then gestured to the exit.

You nod and stood up. You'd say more, but you were afraid to. Speaking never usually got you anywhere good and the survivors always told you that they hated your voice. It was best not to talk. So you settle with following the Doctor to the gate, giving him one more grateful bow of your head and a "thank you" before running out into the nothing of snow.

You popped back up near camp, thankfully in time no one would spot you. Survivors who live always revive first, and you thoroughly took that to your advantage. After surprisingly realizing that you had somehow taken the blanket the Doctor gave you, you ran towards the small, abandoned shack you had made your home just a few miles away from the camp. It was far and took about an hour to get to, but was worth the peace and lack of hate. You found it within the first week when everyone started treating you badly, and had made it your permanent home for when you weren't in trials. 

Once you made it to the shed, you opened the door and entered the interior, feet ruffling through all the collected autumn leaves you had brought in to cushion the hard wood ground you slept on. Maybe if you were lucky you could find some hay to even things out with the rough flooring, but for now it was as best as you'd get. Sighing at the disgarded, empty space, you close the door and shuffle inside, plopping down in the middle and leaning back against the wall. A hole lay near your head in the thick wall of the shed, and you gaze out at the naked trees and twinkling stars. How could such beautiful things exist in such an ugly world? 

You sigh, body finally relaxing as you look down at the blanket in your lap, fingers gently fondling the soft, warm material. You'd cherish it, you promised, for it was the only reminder of kindness that you had. Loneliness had long ago seeped into your body, leaving you to feel heavy and abandoned, but you tried thinking maybe it was better this way, yet you still ached to have someone who cared. 

And you weren't saying that the Doctor did care, but what he had done had obviously been an act of something genuine. And you would be grateful for that until his attitude changed or something snapped inside his head. For right now though, you settle for lying back, throwing the blanket over the top of you and snuggling into your bed of leaves. Eyes heavy from the tears, you blink yourself to sleep after what felt like hours of trying to forget what had happened today. 

.... 

  
"I'm telling you, something is not right here," Herman said out loud, trying to sound sophisticated and mildly alarmed.

Evan casually walked past him and shrugged, "So what if the survivors are bein' a little aggressive? Girls new. Give em a while. They'll lighten up."

Herman followed him, their slow walk in the woods halting just meters before the very shed you slept in. "I don't believe you understand, Evan, that what they have done is clearly unacceptable. Most of us have witnessed the display of betrayal and mild aggression before, but none nearly preformed in such an ineffectual way. It's not right, and we are all curious to understand the depth of it. Is it because of her visual perspective? An act of providence? Jealousy?"

"I hate it when ya use big words," Evan fingered his temple and came to a stop, releasing a hefty sigh before caving in, "So what's your big plan, huh? It's only a matter of time before the entity's calling one'a us. How-re we supposed to find out anything before then."

Herman smiled as if the question already answered itself. "I'm glad you asked," He rose his finger and gestured to the trees, "I've requested some aid from a few others who've witnessed similar encounters such as mine. Mr. Krueger should have no trouble at all keeping (y/n) asleep while Frank brings her back home for questioning."

Evan went quiet for a moment, hands on his hips as he gave the Doctor a debating gaze. "What'd you say you saw again?"

Herman explained his experience. Evan's eyes widened in a flash of repulsion. He gazed off, seeming to try and let the image settle in his brain, body going tense and fists clenching. How dare they. His blood boiled viciously. He had to mentally swallow it all down. "And you're sure you wanna send Fred and the kid after her?"

Herman rubbed his chin in thoughtfulness before nodding, "That is a good point. We'll send Michael instead. It's a good walk back home. She'll need the leverage." Evan sighed and shook his head. That wasn't what he meant but whatever... And began to follow him to the rest of the group.

You'd be in their grasp soon enough. And the answers to all your questions would be freed. 


	2. An Attempt at Interrogation

"Now Remember, Mr. Krueger-" 

"No nightmares, just sleep. I'm not fucking deaf, you know?" Freddy sneered in the direction of the Doctor, his eyes slanted in a feisty glare. Of course he was always one to cherish the thrill of the chase, and he knew you could give quite the run, but he was also just as determined to know why everyone was treating you this way. He had found out one day as the survivors kept purposely shoving you in blood pools. You had tried to get away, but the blood slowed you down and soon you became so tattered by the stress you ended up collapsing. It was weird, confusing and overall frustrating. 

And if there was one thing Freddy did not like, it was an easy chase. 

"I would never suspect," Herman smiled kindly to the shorter man who in return gave him a rude, snide expression. 

Herman, Frank and Evan all remained as background noise while quietly watching as Freddy dissipated away from head to toe into the dream world. Michael stood motionless in front of the opened shed, already stocked up and ready to go. Frank had is arms crossed as if the taller, silent man was the world's stupidest nuisance. "Why's he get to carry her?" He asked with an unhappy snoot.

Herman merely tilted his head in observation, mildly ignoring the younger man's complaints. "We need a strong host for the poor woman to anchor herself during our long journey home, Mr. Morrison. We wouldn't want you to get too exhausted, now would we?"

Frank opened his mouth in protest, feigning immediate offense in the sentence, but paused in brief consideration. Most of the killers knew the biggest reason behind the Legion's struggles was because they weren't the biggest nor the strongest. Just carrying survivors over their shoulders was a non-confessed hassle. And who could blame them? They were just ordinary people with basic, ordinary powers. Sure they had some speed and spite, but at the end of the day... they did want to relax more than anything. So instead of arguing, Frank went for a simple cross of his arms and an upward huff of breath to get the small strands of short hair out of his face. "I'm strong enough..."

Evan gazed over at his best friend who offered a small, knowing smile. Herman was good at leveling people out, usually with his spry manipulation and charming speach. Evan envied him for that. Some times being the leader to a bunch of killer lunatics could be more stressful than trying to maintain monkeys attempting to build a bridge. It was a complete and utter mess. He was thankful to have the help though.

"What're we supposed to do after she's in our hands anyway, doc?" Evan had his arms crossed, voice mildly concerned as he gazed in the direction of the rickety, old shed. "I mean it's not like we have the power to do anything about this shit show."

"You're very right, Evan," Herman answered, and for a moment there was a shine of concern and maybe even distress in his usually charmed vocals, "Perhaps we are powerless against the physical nature of the situation, but we still have the ability to engage it by (y/n) perspective. If there's a chance to bring her to her own justice, then we shall proceed."

Evan raised a brow at the sudden pride leaking out from the scarred doctor's lips. "Ya know, for a guy with no bounds against frying folks brains out, ya sure are pretty attached to this girl... All ya'll are," Evan gazed at Michael, Frank and Herman, imagining Freddy in the back of his mind.

Herman seemed to be lost in thought as he gazed down at the brittle grass, reflecting what he had witnessed inside his mind. Pretty much all of the killers were against any kind of unnatural force in general, but what he had seen and what he had heard... He couldn't help but to wonder what else you had been experiencing when not in trials, especially with that ego charged nimrod David King. Herman's fist clenched at remembering what exactly he had found in the man's pocket the last match he had been in with you. You, your soft voice, scarred, fragile body and yet simple beauty could draw anyone in and make it easy for them to want to take advantage. In some cases it could be understandable for people to engage their desires through worn clothing... but to actively fight for a pair of underwear like an act of ownership? That was just taking it too far.

"Not only did they assume that with my ethics came the illusion of rape, but we all have accurate reasons to believe that she is being assaulted within her own camp," Herman explained and gazed over at his closest friend, "Why else would she have ventured closer to our home for mere rest? Obviously she feels threatened by her own members."

Evan blinked at his friend, ready to try and find more explanation, but realizing that he was right about it all. The survivors already went through enough day by day with the intense trials, suffering executions, stabs, blunt trauma injuries, hooks, and sometimes even broken bones. There was no reason for anymore suffering to continue outside of the matches.

This might be their only chance to really get a grasp on what exactly was going on.

... 

Michael waited a mere ten minutes, watching as your small body relaxed more and more until it was nearly spread in peace and a light snore was coming out your parted lips. He then walked inside, the boards creaking loudly in protest to his large form, but the sound didn't stir you in the slightest. He stopped right beside you, gazing down at your sleep fixated form, expression hid and unknown behind his mask. The blanket you had was covering mostly the upper half of your body, a portion of which even laid over your mouth. 

Michael kneeled down, the tune of the boards enough to make thirty crows scatter, but not enough to wake someone up who was being invaded by Freddy. Michael had to assume Freddy was actually following Herman's orders and not traumatizing you with nightmares, though very surprising considering the man loved to mess with people. Your face was as peaceful and carefree as ever. It shouldn't be a problem. Michael pulled the blanket from your body, revealing your tattered turtleneck sweater, dirty jeans and winter styled boots. The scars on your face became evident in the faint moonlight. Michael gazed at every square inch of you before finally inching his large arms underneath your small body. 

You whimpered a few times, mouth closing as you wiggled a bit. Michael stood up in a more than professional way, allowing you to smoothly slide against his chest where you whimpered against his peck and unconsciously nosed it. Your hands moved around as if searching for the blanket. Michael left it behind. It was a cool night, but you would survive, especially if Freddy could up his handy work. 

After spotting the silent stalker successfully walk out of the shed with you thoroughly asleep in his arms, Herman smiled and lifted a finger, making an almost too eager announcement, "Well done, Mr. Myers. Let's be on our way now."

Evan sighed and began walking after his friend, feeling a little stab of intuition in his gut. "Listen Doc, I know ya wanna help this lady out, but what about when we get to camp, huh? It's not like we can convince a whole lot'a the others to understand what she's going through..."

Herman bowed his head faintly as they walked, his eyes darkening in deeply hidden dread. It was true. The rest of the killers were hard to cope with. Mostly the ladies. Julie and Susie were the brightest of the bunch, and even then they were still annoying and rude to everyone else. No one could understand Adiris or Anna because of their unique language. Kazan was a super overprotective chump and never let anyone touch or talk to Ren, not that they really could in the first place... And worst of all the Hag, who which no one liked to be around, was the one Evan had to keep an eye on the most lest someone else get a bite out of them. Others like Amanda and Sally kept to themselves, silent and immobile.

Herman knew that the structure of their group was a risky and unstable one. Honestly, it was a disgusting, horrible, nasty way to live. The fear from either being puked on, eaten alive or killed in their sleep turned into dreadful annoyance after the long, cold years passed by. The camp was always getting trashed by the Demogorgan or Hag leaving everyone else to either blow up in rage, run away, or stay to refurbish. It wasn't very often anyone in their group would lend a helping hand. Evan, as the leader, suffered more than most. 

In a wave of guilt and disappointment, Herman considered the strength and endurance of the poor man. It wasn't very fair to be putting this extra stress on his hands. Herman looked over at the miner, gazing at his strong yet sunken face, and how his eyes begged for just one night of rest. He was a hard worker with will and determination. A true leader. He shouldn't have to be dealing with the struggles of another person who was on the opposite side of his own group. But, Herman smiled, they weren't as hopeless or as low strung as they seemed.

Philip, Caleb, Max, Jeffrey, Joey, and Bubba were all extremely loyal and hard minded allies. They would help them. Herman lifted his head in pride. He knew they would.

"So Doc," Frank kicked at the ground, stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket as he pretended not to be too interested, "When are you gonna tell the rest of us about what you saw? Why's it gotta be just between you and Mac?"

Herman looked down at the young man and offered a joyful grin, "Well, Mr. Morrison, I had planned to wait until we got back home to mention the news. After all, it would be such a stress having to explain such a matter numerous times. We wouldn't want anyone getting mixed up, now would we?"

"Sure, whatever," Frank kicked at the ground as if it held a grudge against him, "I get we came together because we all saw shit, but what's with the traffic cone? Why's he following us?"

Herman and Evan momentarily tensed. It was a matter that hadn't been brought up this entire time. Even when Frank asked the question it was in a low tuned voice. Herman turned his head back slightly, catching a glimpse of the tall, hulking form walking just a dozen meters behind Michael from his peripheral vision. No one knew quite yet who the new killer was or what business he had done to get here, but one thing they did know was that they intended to keep their distance. The thing was practically a beast who could make the ever so tallest Micheal Myers look like a squeezable doll. It never talked and never stopped carrying that giant, deadly sword with it. No one knew what to do about it.

"Not even I can say for certain what his intentions are, Mr. Morrison, but I believe it would be best if we left well enough alone," Herman addressed and gave the young man a steady stare.

Frank scoffed at him, about ready to unleash his thoughts about why it was so frustrating and stupid for that walking traffic cone to be on their tail all the time without reason, but a large hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Give it a rest, kid," Evan said casually, the vibe in which he gave off nearly calming, "I'm sure he's just taggin' along to find out more about us. Give em time."

"'Give em time,'" Frank mimicked and rolled his eyes, shrugging the older man's hand off, "That's what you always say."

"But it always sticks, doesn't it?" Evan smirked as Frank gave him a snooty glare. Kids... He huffed.

Herman held back as they continued to walk on. Home was a hard forty-five minutes to an hour away. "How are you holding up, Mr. Myers?" He asked the silent, masked man.

Michael gave him an unseen glance of his hidden eyes, briefly answering his question before looking back forward. His arms were still stable and holding strong. You were extremely light, he realized, and had no doubts he could carry you the rest of the way home without fail.

Herman nodded in confirmation and continued to mindlessly stare at your relaxed, snoozing face. Freddy was doing a good job. He thinned his lips out, eyes turning from white to blue. You were such a peaceful, beautiful young woman. Your demeanor and stance proved that you were willing to accept and handle a lot of weight on your shoulders. And yet, those men... Those foul, disgusting men. Herman's eyes started to burn dark orange as he remembered what he had witnessed. Your naked, bound body, the tears of fright and acceptance running down your face, how you kneeled down in gratefulness for an act any person should have done. Obviously, there was more going on behind the scene than what anyone else's knowledge could behold, and Herman's imagination did not make anything better.

All of the sudden, there was a rush of intense breathing and the alarmingly familiar sound of something long and hard being shoved into the ground. "Michael, look out!" Frank shouted and whipped around faster than anyone else, knocking both you and Michael out of the way just in time for a rush of barbs, blood and sharp metals to penatrate the earth.

Frank groaned but immediately pulled himself up, blushing angrily at the position he was tangled in upon the tall, quiet man below him. He quickly gazed to you, seeing that you were still secure in Michael's strong hold. He had to hand it to him, he was a tough one. Frank removed himself from between Michael's legs and helped him to sit up before turning around and sharply barking, "What the hell, man?"

Before anyone knew it, Pyramid Head was doing it again, shoving his sword into the ground with a hefty huff. Frank's eyes widened as he got ready to push Michael aside, but was shocked to see the ambush of dreaded metals veer off to the side. "What are you doing?" Herman asked after he let go of the giant sword, breath sudden from pushing the blow off course, "That young lady needs help, and you are intervening."

"Herman, watch out!" Evan grabbed the Doctor by the back of the coat and yanked him back, barely in time to miss a deadly swing from his broad sword. He made a sound of split second panic, immediately looking from the out of control metal head to you and Michael.

"Get (y/n) out of here, quickly," Evan hollered and steadied his friend, "We'll try to hold him off."

"Come on," Frank scattered to his feet, taking you in his arms until Michael was able to stand up, "I don't know what that guy's fucking problem is, but we needa' go, like now."

Once on sturdy feet, Michael began following Frank in a different direction than the camp. You had uttered a few alarming whimpers, but other than that remained quiet and asleep. Frank looked behind them. Pyramid Head was walking after them, fast.

"Whoa now," Evan raised his hands up as he stepped in front of the beast, "I don't know what you're doing, bud, but ya needa' stop right now. This ain't right."

Pyramid Head, with a brutal strength everyone pretty much tried to avoid, reached out and used his arm to slam Evan to the ground, simply continuing on with his hunt. "Evan," Herman rushed to his side as quickly as possible, making sure that he was still conscious before looking in your direction, "Run Michael! If she gets killed here, Lord knows what the Entity will do."

"You heard the man," Frank scrambled further in front of Michael, "Let's go." But at seeing the vastly approaching tyrant, Frank felt his stomach drop. He was always one to play tough and bad, but he never really took on anyone bigger than himself... you know.

But this wasn't about him. That jerk was trying to kill you and in the process hurt one of his friends. Frank glared, looking to Michael and nodding, "I'll hold him back. Try to lose him in the trees, alright."

Frank sharply turned around and began running as fast as he could towards the giant monster of a man. 'Fucking idiot,' his mind glowered, 'This is what I get for leaving my shit at home.' Just as Pyramid Head lifted his sword to swing it at him, Frank vaulted downwards and dodged it, swiftly moving in behind the large man and holding his arm with all his might. It was hard though when your component was nearly half taller than you and yielding the strength of a giant troll. But he still tried. 

Holding back the very arm yielding the sword, Frank thought he might have been making progress keeping him still. He didn't expect to be elbowed in the face hard enough to hear a bustling wrenching noise in his head. Stars raced across his outer vision as he fell to the ground, blackness taking over his body. 

Pyramid Head continued. 

Michael had made it a good ways in the woods before slowing down to hide behind the trees. He breathed calmly, holding you close and tight while subtly peeking past the thick trees. He found a particular spot diagonal from where he made it seem like he was going and stopped, waiting. Listening. He turned his head, stalking his perimeter. He didn't hear anything. Just the gentle breeze and swaying leaves. For a few minutes, this simplicity continued and he wondered if he would be able to make it back to the group. Hopefully they were alright.

But that would have to go without being said.

All of the sudden, before he could ever anticipate, Michael was jerked forward as barbed metal jabbed at his legs, his arms coming lose. It had came through the tree which meant that Pyramid Head was behind ya'll. Michael tried walking forward, but his feet and legs were torn to shreds, and he lifted his head in quiet alarm at hearing the distinctive sound of another earth blow coming. He held you further up when it happened, unable to keep from falling to his knees as the metal practically destroyed his feet.

An action that might have woke you.

Your eyes opened quickly and you uttered a noise of surprise at the different scenery before you. Afraid that David and the others might have found you, you sat up only to gasp at your position in the big arms you were in. Head snapping to the side, you make a surprised noise at the sight of Michael Myers, "Oh! Wha-I.."

Your voice cut off at the sight of that giant, scary polygon headed thing coming in from behind Michael. Heart frozen in confusion and fear, you scrambled to get to your feet, pushing the killer aside in the process. No. You thought. No, this could not be happening. Not the killers too. As you ran, tears rushed to your eyes as your heart throbbed in mad sorrow. It was too much as it was, and now you had the killers trying to assault you? But what about the Doctor? Well... Not everyone was the same.

Nose choking up with snot and throat growing heavy with sobs, you lower your head as you run, feeling terrified and vulnerable. Why? Why, why, why, why, why! Why was this happening to you? Why you? What had you ever done wrong to deserve this? To deserve any of this. First the survivors, and now killers with actual instruments of torture.

You couldn't do this. You realized. You couldn't handle it anymore. You had died by the entity before whenever the survivors left you through the hatch and there wasn't enough time to find it. It wasn't pleasant, but it was favorable. Basically your best option. You couldn't run, but you could hide. Just hide until either everyone else died and you escaped through the hatch, or just waited around to die by the entity. No one would find you. Not the survivors and not the killers. 

It was your only chance, you grieved to yourself. This was how things were going to be for now on. The survivors bullied you enough as it was. You didn't need the killers butting in, and would do anything to avoid it.

... 

Herman helped a rather dizzy Frank up to his feet, laying a hand underneath his arm to keep him stabilized, "Are you alright, son?"

"I'm fine," Frank groaned as he held his forehead, wincing at the wet implication of blood. He looked down at his palm and grimaced. Was it really that bad?

"The Entity will take care of it," Herman spoke in his rare soft voice, sounding just as defeated as he did concerned, "For now you should take it easy."

Frank growled a bit. He hated it whenever Evan or Herman called him 'son.' Made him feel too sappy inside. He didn't like it. "Where..." He garbled a hiss as he tried to take a step, but his head felt as if it were painfully immobilizing his body, "Where's Michael... (y/n)."

Herman kept an arm underneath Franks as they slowly began walking through the woods. For a moment he was quiet, merely pretending to observe the gentle, tame nature and all its value. "Unfortunately he caught up with them. Michael was severely wounded and (y/n) managed to escape." It was said in such a degrading way that even Frank didn't say anything back to it.

They simply kept walking. "Fuck, this hurts," Frank shook his head, trying to keep from falling as they wandered on so close together.

Herman hummed, "Not too much longer, son. The Entity knows the costs of these kinds of happenings."

"What're you talking about?" Frank looked up at the crazy man through squinting eyes.

Herman just stared straight forward. After blinking a few times, Frank followed his gaze and soon his eyes widened at the sight before him. The thing they called 'traffic cone' was now being held down as the Entity slowly submerged its sharp, sinister claws into his body. It looked horrifying and painful. Frank grit his teeth at the bizarre, nasty sight and took a step back.

"What the hells happening?"

Herman bowed his head, "Whenever an attack is made outside of a trial, the Entity delivers an unforgettable punishment."

Frank's heart pulsed fast. He had never witnessed such a thing, but to see it now. The claws had rendered Pyramid Head's legs and feet useless as more of the barbed flesh dug slowly and surely into more delicate places. It was definitely worth cringing for. At least Frank knew what he wasn't going to be doing any time soon....

"Come on guys," Evan sighed as he held up a terribly wounded Michael Myers. How he was managing to still walk was a mystery of its own, "Let's go home."

"Right." Herman straightened his posture and looked down at the young man beside him, "Mr. Morrison, do you believe that you can walk on your own?"

"Duh," Frank nodded and rolled his eyes.

Herman patted his shoulder and went to the other side of Michael, aiding Evan in helping him get back home. The sky above them began to darken and fog. A trial was about to start. This wasn't how they wanted things to happen. At least they planned to tell everyone about (y/n) so they could try and help out in the trials. Now all they could do was hope that no one caused you anymore trouble than what you were already getting.

... 

You'd think when one trial ended, it would be a while before you were summoned to another one, but nope. That was not the law of the jungle around here. As the dusty, fresh air of Coldwind Farm settled in all around you, so did the unfortunate knowledge of your team members. Your head was still racing from before, waking up in none other than Michael Myers arms, and then being chased by that polygon headed thing. What was that even about? You shuddered thinking about the possibilities.

"Ahem."

Well, you weren't always the greatest person when it came to overcoming confusing trauma and taking in your current surroundings. Gasping lightly, you look up to see Meg, Kate and Feng all standing in front of you, each with an evil, unpromising smirk on their pretty faces. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm just gonna go ahead and explain **why Pyramid Head did what he did** because it's not much of a big deal. So he's new, right? Of course he's gonna try to kill a survivor, I mean no else was doing it! So he tried. He was only doing what he thought was right.


	3. Lost Faith and Broken Spirit

Back at Léry's Memorial Institute, Michael, Freddy, Herman and Frank all stood around in the rather homey office that belonged to The Doctor. Evan came in shortly later, confirming with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, "Well I talked to him, but I don't know what the outcome'l be."

Herman sat down his gathered tools and stood up, wiping his bloodied hands on a spare rag as he did. Medical supplies wasn't a usual occurrence in the institute since it more or less looked like a mad house for torture, but The Doctor happily exclaimed that in the little nooks and crannies that appeared unimportant to most, there lie several pieces of perfectly useful medical equipment scattered about everywhere. Too bad the survivors hadn't noticed it yet. Right now it came in handy for Michael and Frank who wouldn't be completely replenished until they were sucked into a trial. For now they'd have to tough it through and work with what little the unnaturally skilled Doctor could do.

"I'm sure The Entity set a good enough example for him," Herman looked down at the silent, masked man and gestured to his wounds in general, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Evan watched as Michael merely shook his head once before letting it sag back against the wall. His legs were blood soaked and ruined by the time they dragged him here, but with Herman's generosity, he was bandaged up as best as he could be. A deep feeling of dread contaminated Evan's stomach as he glared down at the ground. He knew Pyramid Head was a special coincidence, but he felt as though he should do a better job looking after his team.

"He seemed to listen pretty well," Evan took a place leaning against the edge of a bookshelf, arms crossed on his broad chest, "Just wish I knew if he could understand anything under that giant thing on his head."

"Or see," Frank sneered at a book he was mindlessly flipping pages to called 'Microbiology Unraveled', his body laying sideways in the room's only chair, legs hanging off the armrest. He tossed the uninteresting book onto the table and leaned back, saying grumpily, "I don't get what's up with all these new ass holes. They're stupid and they don't pay attention to anything."

"Calm down, Mr. Morrison," Herman slipped his bloody jacket off revealing the neat, clean, white vest underneath. He had already visualized what he wanted to wear during his next match, but for right now he wanted to remain blood free, thank you very much. "We still need to keep our focus on (y/n) and the other survivors."

"I still can't believe you punk asses managed to let her get away," Freddy huffed and glared at everyone in the room.

Frank flipped him off and barked back, "That's easy for your short ass to say. While you were lolling away in dream land, we were fighting for our lives."

Just as Freddy lifted his clawed hand up to gripe some more, Evan stepped in and lifted his arms. "Enough ya two," He demanded, giving both of them a stern look, "Tonight didn't go as we planned but that doesn't mean we should argue about it."

"Evan is right," Herman stood up to address the room, "Instead of fighting we need to be working together to formulate a new plan."

"Really Doc?" Evan gave him a defeated stare, "After what just happened, ya really wanna try again?"

Herman simply pointed an unwavering smile at his closest friend, "If we don't do something, (y/n) and possibly other survivors will suffer. You can't honestly tell me that you're not the slightest bit concerned…"

Evan lowered his arms and gazed down at the hard wood floor. He understood what buttons Herman was trying to push, and he had to admit it was working, but he just couldn't quite grasp the full passion everyone else felt for you. Sure, the news he had received was alarming but it wasn't his fault. He wasn't the leader of the survivors. What they did was beyond his control, and not his problem to begin with. He already dealt with enough around here as it was. He didn't need to pile survivors onto his list of unsolved misfortunes.

"I know ya mean well, Doc, but this isn't our fight," Evan shook his head, giving his friend what could only be defined as the look of a made up mind, "We did what we could. It's time to let them figure the rest out on their own."

"So you're just giving up?" Frank sat up from the chair and walked toward Evan, a snide expression plastered across his face, "Seriously? That's it?"

"Look kid," Evan pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, "This ain't about ya, alright, so just give it a rest."

"You're right, this isn't about me," Frank declared with his fists clenched, "And it isn't about you either. It's about someone we care about, and these fuckers are taking a leap to walk all over her. Ever since day one this fucking torments only gotten worse, and you've got the nerve to just back out like some fucking weeb?"

Evan had never seen such a heavy look of determination on the young man's face before. The way he stood up was something to be acknowledged as well. But one thing he said stood out more than anything else. 'It isn't about you either.' Is that what this feeling was? Had he really been thinking about only himself this whole time? Glimpses of the team members around him reminded him how far they were willing to go, especially Michael and Frank who had taken the physical blunt of the mess and still remained determined to help.

Before Evan got to say anything back, the forbidden sound of the Wailing Bell filled the air with chills and unshakable fear. "Where was that?" Frank gasped and turned his head back quickly to look out the side of the office window.

Herman was already squatting down to help Michael to his feet, "Quickly everyone. To the basement."

Lucky for them the basement was in the office. With Frank and Herman supporting Michael and Freddy leading the way, Evan stayed back to watch as a reckless, blood lust taken Wraith wandered around aimlessly, some times hitting and destroying things at random. It was a sight that made his chest ache with hatred and frustration. They all knew it was Philip's turn to be under the influence of Blight, but it still wasn't fair. Evan was tired of running, tired of hurting and fixing things he knew couldn't be fixed.

Giving the clueless man one last sorrowful glance, Evan headed into the basement as well. When he arrived, Herman had already helped Michael into one of the lockers. "Is he still rampaging?" The Doctor asked with the same look of dread on his face.

Evan sighed as he headed for one of the lockers at the back, "Not yet he ain't."

Everyone knew the drill once a killer under the Blight effect roamed freely. Once you see that sucker, hide. Quickly. And don't try to show yourself. Killers effected by Blight become ruthless, careless and unstable. They lose consciousness of who they are and go mad. It was disturbing and bizarre. They never gave up on their target and were ruthless once they caught them. It was best to stay away.

With Michael, Herman and Evan all in their own locker, and Frank and Freddy sharing the last one, they were hidden and safe.

"Ugh," Frank twisted his leg awkwardly as he shuffled his body, shoving his hand against Freddy's dirty sweater to get him to move back, "Do you mind? Your breath smells like ass. Move back dammit."

"Fuck off, bitch," Freddy rose his clawed hand up threateningly, "Or I'll give you nightmares you've never even imagined."

"I'd like to see you try," Frank retorted and shuffled around some more, trying to move back his legs from in between Freddy's. He ended up growling in frustration when Freddy used one hand to cup his rear end and yank him forward while using the other to hold his head back as a long tongue came out with the intention of licking his chin.

Grimacing in disgust and alarm, Frank quickly kneed Freddy in the crotch and said angrily, "How's that for a fucking nightmare?" Freddy did hunch back in pain, but only for a moment, and then their scuffle continued.

On the other side, Evan was holding his face in his palm, breathing out low and tiredly. At this rate, he might as well hand over the title of leadership to Caleb or Sally. Surely one of those two would have some proper sanity during complex situations.

Until the threat of the dangerously brainwashed Wraith became no more, the killers remained in their lockers. Time went by and they agreed that Philip wouldn't be leaving the institute any time soon, so they came up with a plan and made a bee line for the exit when he wasn't around. From there they crossed paths to the MacMillan Estate. 

Settling down at the special tree, Freddy and Frank were still mindlessly arguing with each other, clothes torn from the scuffles they had gotten into with each other in the locker. Michael was still as quiet as ever, sitting down and leaning against the tree. Evan was standing just a few meters away, gazing up at the endlessly full moon and star bedazzled sky. 

"What are you thinking about?" Herman's curious, charming voice was unnaturally calm as he walked up beside his best friend. 

Evan gave him a small huff, glancing at him from the corner of his eye before looking back up at the sky, "Nothin' much. Why?" 

"I see," Herman thinned his lips together, letting a moment of silence wash over them before looking over and asking, "Is it about him?" 

Evan's eyes widened and he gave Herman a hard, stern stare. "No," He said flatly, tone slightly harsh, "Not at all..." 

"You know," Herman simply put on a smile and crossed his arms, saying casually, "It's been a while since the two of you have spoken to one another... Do you imagine, it might help if you-" 

"Out of the picture, Doc," Evan turned away. There was the same harshness degrading his tone, but also a small hint of panic hid there as well, "Way out." 

Herman's smile only broadened as he too gave the bright moon an appreciative glance. "I understand," He said gently, "I know he meant a lot to you and that its difficult for you to comprehend what could have been achieved if you had merely listened to one another."

"What're ya tryin' to get at, Doc?" Evan grumbled dangerously for this was severely personal intellect he did not like discussing with anyone.

Herman pointed his gentle stare back toward his friend and implied, "You have a chance to make things right again, Evan. You can't convince me that you don't care for him any longer, because if you didn't, you wouldn't have stepped in so far to help (y/n). Face it, Evan, deep down you fret that he too has also taken part in this torment. That's why you stepped in. You believed that by engaging (y/n), you might have found the answers you so desperately wish to know."

"You and your big, stupid, damn mouth," Evan's eyes were clenched shut as he nearly crushed his temples which ached to no end with stress. He grumbled hatefully to himself because Herman was right. He was always right. He knew everything about him; Obviously since they were best friends, but it was annoying. It was so frustratingly annoying.

"Hey everyone," Said a youthfully familiar voice booming from behind the tree.

"Hey Danny, what's up?" Frank left his argumental fight with the burnt man and headed towards his friend.

Danny looked Frank over and laughed, "Dude, what the hell happened to you?"

Frank scuffed, rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb back at Freddy, "Had to hide and got stuck in a fucking locker with shit-skin over there."

"Oh..." Danny made a pained expression and hesitantly asked, "Was it Max?"

"Still Philip," Frank informed with a sigh.

"Damn," Danny's expression became exaggerated for a moment before being completely replaced by a look of eagerness. "Dude," He laughed and held up his phone, "You have to check out these new pics I got."

"Oh sweet," Frank got up beside him and looked down at the cheap cell phone, "Who'd you get this time?"

"Ok," Danny tried to contain his laughter by lifting up a finger as he got to his gallery, "So you know that new chick who wears those lame sweaters all the time?"

In that moment, Frank's eyes widened in disbelief and horror, his body instinctively moving a step away from the other man. "What?" He asked, voice laced with unbearable disbelief. He couldn't have....

Danny seemed oblivious to his friend's disapproval and continued to blab on, "Well I guess the other survivors have a grudge or something against her, and guess what?" He found the pictures he was looking for and clicked on them, stepping back over to show Frank.

And what Frank saw made the whole world turn blood red.

...

You were cornered. On instinct your fingers curled close to your chest as you tried to step back, frustrated with yourself for not attempting to get away sooner. The effects from mere minutes ago still had a hold of you though, and you were having trouble focusing on reality as it was now.

"What's wrong?" Feng asked innocently, dressed in her fancy, fire orange dress.

Beside her Kate chuckled and said, "You're looking a little pale there..."

In short, you notice that Meg had disappeared. Out of the corner of your eye you saw her running beside the cornfield, wearing her own fancy outfit. Usually survivors didn't pick such special clothing unless they had something specific in mind or just wanted to woo the killer. You, however, didn't have much besides your turtleneck sweaters, boots, and jeans. Plus you always tried to wear your handkerchief over your face but more often than not it ended up falling down around your neck. You weren't anything truly breath taking and never intended to be. You just wanted to be left alone.

"We've been meaning to ask you for a favor," Feng announced after your long spout of silence.

You look to her with a small frown, mumbling softly, "A favor?"

"Yesss," Kate dragged out and fluffed her hair as she walked forward, "Ya see... We're a little behind on our payments and we can't have anyone finding out about our secret, so... We're gonna need ya to die, sweetheart."

"But," Feng giggled dramatically, almost sounding frantic, "Not without a little bit of fun of course..."

At those words you ran, taking off in the direction of the corn field. This was it, you decided. The beginning of your new plan. You weren't going to let anyone bully you anymore. You didn't care what kind of consequences you would have to face. Anything was better than the torment you had to face match by match. Those women had something evil up their sleeve, you just knew it. The way they were acting and the way they were dressed proved your theories correct. What they said about payment made little sense but it didn't matter. You needed to get away. 

"And just where do ya think you're going?" You heard the unmistakable country accent belonging to Kate shout from just a couple meters behind you and pressed to run faster. 

Looking forward, you decided to try and lose them at the Killer Shack since it contained roots of many to escape. Funny... You thought with a flushed face. The team mates you were supposed to rely so strongly on you were now desperately trying to avoid as if they were the enemy. And in this circumstance, they basically were.

With all your might you kept running until you entered the killer shack. With some maintained distance, you planned to make it to the pallet and drop it so to gain a few seconds of momentum. Yet once you made it half ways inside, Meg blocked the entrance with the pallet. You skidded to a stop and gasped, turning around to look at the window.

"Not so fast," Feng grinned mischievously, her body blocking the window.

Common sense told you that Kate was undoubtedly blocking the exit behind you, but you still turned to look. Sure enough, your body froze over with horror, she too was blocking the very last exit. "What do you want?" You ask softly, mouth hiding underneath your handkerchief.

"What do we want?" Kate repeated in her strong country accent, her eyes gazing to all her other companions, "Well that's simple, sweetheart.. Danny love, why don't you be a dear and come on out now?"

Your eyes barely had time to widen before you were screaming out in pain, body rushing front first to the ground. A sharp pain dispersed all throughout your upper back and had you paralyzed. This sort of attack could only be done by one of two people. As you shakily lift up your head, pain and blood heavily emitting from your back side, you saw a flash of a dark grey cloak and immediately knew who it was. Ghostface.

"Sorry I'm late, ladies," Ghostface said the apology in a more than confident tone as he approached your side, "So... What're we in for today, huh?"

A lot of giggling and quiet chatter happened as the rest of the survivors circled around the killer and began to whisper things you couldn't understand but had an idea about anyway. The promise to stop crying was shattered as you glare hard at the ground beneath you. If your body had the strength, you'd hit it until your hands were broken, bloody and splintered raw. This was so unfair, you slowly begin to leak with tears. You didn't understand what was happening. Everything was fine a couple weeks ago. What changed to make you the mascot of this sick, perverted joke?

"Up you go." Having not been paying attention, you gasp in alarm as the killer picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. "You ready, ladies?" You heard him ask, absently wondering why before feeling a hard smack delivered straight to your rear end.

Your body jerked uncontrollably and you cried out in pain, struggling immediately afterwards to try and get away. A white flash filled the shack and you looked up to see that Meg had that strange cell phone Ghostface took pictures with when he executed survivors. The embarrassment, anger and horror that they just managed to forever capture you in such a humiliating pose made your face burn red and body sag in twisted, welled up emotion. You hung in silence for a moment before kicking and wiggling with all your might to get off his dreadful shoulder. 

"Whoa now," Danny chuckled and began to walk down the stairs to the basement. 

You were unable to understand much of the group's conversation through your struggling, but once you were thrown on a hook it became inevitable. Screaming in pain from your pierced back and punctured shoulder, you quickly tried to pull yourself off to summon the Entity. The girls all gathered around you, but you were too focused on trying to get through the major pain flaring up in your sad, poor body to properly see what they were doing. Before you knew it, another flash happened as well as a bunch of giggles, and you were off the hook right as the Entity was finally summoned. 

You were weak in the knees, ready to bolt for the exit until another stab to the lower stomach sent you flying short to the ground. Your scream cut off as your chin busted against the hard wood ground, and your vision went blurry. You groaned, upper body wasted to all hell as you tried to register what exactly was going on. You moved your arms, but it was almost as if you couldn't even feel them any longer. 

Suddenly something hard and heavy landed on your back and you were forced to turn over with a pained groan. Blood leaked from your mouth. You were unable to form words as you watch helplessly as Ghostface descended down on top of you, knees on either side of your head. After losing so much blood and being in so much pain, not even your eyes could widen in terror. You feel tears gathering up and gargle a sharp noise of protest. 

Danny snickered at you before he reached his hands down beneath your head and asked, "Ready Meggie?"

"You got it!"

"Alright," And he pressed your face right into the rough material covering his crotch.

Embarrassment, shame, fear, hatred, sadness, revolution, anger and pain. It never ended. Your eyes timidly leaked with tears as your breath began to cut off. You didn't open your eyes. Your blood was already boiling with tremendous humiliation, but yet you could still feel the flash of the camera. Who all would get to see this you did not know. Your face lay smashed against the Ghostface for what felt like minutes before he finally got off, throwing your head back with a mean crack against the hard ground. You sucked in air rapidly and unevenly, lungs aching with despair.

After taking another picture of your downed form, Ghostface and the survivors left you to wither away on the ground. In that time crows scattered around you, but you ignored them, and eventually bled out alone and degraded.

"Now ladies," Danny smirked evilly, "Payment time..."

Kate had her shirt off within seconds, Feng and Meg giggling behind her before copying her actions as well.

...

"Danny you..." Frank had his eyes closed, fists clenched and body shaking. His voice was a roar of outrage, "Fucking idiot!"

Frank slammed Danny's hands apart, sending the contaminated cell phone flying across the ground. "What the hell, man?" Danny immediately protested and stepped back, utterly perplexed and annoyed.

"How could you do something like that, Danny?" Frank asked, truly angry but also extremely disappointed that one of his greatest friends would stoop so low, "Do you have any fucking idea what that girls going through, and you just-just what- come along and shit all over her like that?"

"Calm the hell down, dude, alright," Danny began to wander over to his phone, "She's just a stupid survivor, I mean it's not like anyone actually gives a fu-oof!"

Danny was cut off by a large hand grabbing the back of his shirt and turning him around. From there he was forced back against the tree, that same hand still holding tight onto the collar of his costume. When he succumbed the pain and opened his eyes, he nearly flinched as seeing none other than the Doctor's hot orange and devil angry eyes staring back at him. Immediately a large sweat took over his body as he remained immobile in the older man's intimidating death grip.

"We have reason to believe that that woman is being assaulted by her own comrades," Herman explained in his murderous, frightening voice. The voice that promised pain and torture the mind could never process on its own. Danny shuddered. "And you have just drastically lowered our chances of assisting her. And for what..."

Herman whispered and leaned in even closer to the shorter man, holding out his puny cell phone in his free hand, "A couple of inappropriate pictures... is that it?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir," Danny shook his head, gulping when his voice tried to give out, "I-I didn't know..."

"Well the thing is now you do, and you know what," Herman was nearly to the point of pressing their foreheads together, his hand gripping and pushing against Danny so tightly it left marks in his skin, "Do it again and, I don't care what the Entity does to me, I'll operate on you to the point not even revival can save you."

Danny flinched when Herman crushed his phone into bits, electricity flowing up his hand and all throughout his outfit. It pricked but didn't hurt. Obviously it was a strong, deadly warning to obey his orders. Quickly he nodded his head to show that he understood and would never, ever do anything to get on his bad side again.

Herman let Danny go with a rough shove and began to stomp off in the direction of the exit. Behind him Frank gave Danny a disappointed glare before moving past him to follow after the Doctor. Evan was the last one to leave, stopping before the young killer and giving him a stern glance, "Your phone will be confiscated until all the unnecessary pictures have been deleted. After your next trial, come directly to me, ya got that?"

"Yeah," Danny reached up and placed a faintly trembling hand over his burnt shirt, his eyes drifting to the group disappearing toward the exit. "Evan..." He mumbled in uncertainty, "What's going on with this chick anyway?"


	4. Evan's Mending of The Past

Herman and the others made way for Glenvale with a grumpy, in tow Danny Johnson wandering a ways behind them. While Crotus Prenn and Red Forest were where the more antisocial killers liked to stay, many of the men liked to hit it back somewhere comfortable and inviting like Glenvale, Haddonfield or Springwood. With intel from Danny, Herman decided that it was time to confirm the news about the survivors to everyone else so that they may have more ways to confront this mess.

Danny unhappily snooted at the ground, eyes lingering upwards to stare at Frank as he helped to anchor Michael. Anymore that tall, slick, silent idiot might as well be Frank's new best friend, because he sure was having fun ignoring Danny lately. Plus, after what just happened, Danny was sure he had severed some major strings in their bond. He hadn't known nor understood the severity of the situation at hand, and was inconsiderate of his actions. Evan had explained a small majority of what was going on between you and the other survivors, but he himself wasn't too concerned.

You were a survivor. Yeah, what he did was stupid, wrong, against the rules- blah blah blah. But the thing is Danny was simply a selfish guy at heart. It wasn't something that he could necessarily help-perhaps because he didn't want it to be helped- and he acted out randomly without thought some times. Did he really care that you were suffering? Not so much. Did he care that he put his friendship and popularity on the line by messing with Frank and Herman's little girl toy? Yes he did. Now he had his phone taken away like some child and was going to have to sit with Evan and delete all his hard earned photos. That should be fun...

Once the group made it to the warm, breezy comforts of Glenvale, Frank and Herman helped Michael enter the Dead Dawg Saloon where Bubba and Max were the first ones to jump to their feet in alarm at their visual stance. "Whoa, calm down Bubba," Frank tried to evade the immediate pats and caresses aimed toward his bandaged head, "It's just a scratch, nothing to worry about."

Bubba made a rather upset, piggish mewl as he looked to Michael and saw the awkward stance he was in with his ruined legs. "What in God's name happened, ya'll?" Asked Caleb who was marching straight to his feet after the commotion from Bubba woke him up.

"Yeah Frank, care to explain?" Asked Joey who had his arms crossed tightly, feet tapping harshly against the ground as he tried to hide his anxiety.

"Calm down, everyone," Herman spoke sincerely as he helped Michael to sit down at one of the wooden tables, "I assure you that everything is under control."

Once Frank was back to his feet after helping Michael, he made a surprised noise whenever Caleb grabbed him firmly by the chin and tilted his head back and forth. "These ain't ordinary wounds," Caleb confirmed, his worry professionally hidden as he examined the bandaged wounds of Michael and Frank, "What happened?"

Frank pushed Caleb's hand down and glared in frustration, "Hey watch it Lucas McCain. We've had a shitty night, alright?"

"Boy, you call me by that name one more time and I'm gonna be roastin' ya harder than a turkey leg on Thanksgivin'," Caleb threatened which only served him a useless eye roll.

"The new guy attacked us," Evan explained as he finally entered the Saloon.

"What?" Joey breathed in surprise as he went to examine the damage done to his friend.

Bubba made another alarmed noise as he kneeled down beside Michael, trying to pat his shoulder in order to comfort him. "Why the hell he'd do that?" Jeffrey asked from another table as he lazily leaned forward to check out their wounds.

"We were attempting to bring (y/n) in for interrogation and believe his intentions were simply displaced by her presence," Herman explained calmly, gesturing to the injured set, "These two bravely suffered in order of making sure she didn't."

"I told you that new guy was trouble," Jeffrey coughed and casually leaned back as if he had expected this to be a failure from the beginning.

At the information spoken, Caleb swiftly turned his head and eyed Evan. "You mean to tell me ya really tried to bring'r in?" He asked, clearly surprised and irritated by their naive fantasies about trying to fix what wasn't their problem to begin with.

"What else can I do, Caleb?" Evan shrugged in defeat while gazing at all the others, admitting tiredly, "I'm outnumbered here...."

"Well you're the boss, ain't ya?" Caleb cocked his head at the other man who seemingly slumped in mental and physical exhaustion. He thinned his lips out, thinking that perhaps lecturing wasn't the best thing to do at a moment like this. Evan was one heck of a leader and everyone respected him greatly. They maybe in a complex position, but Caleb was positive that if anyone could solve a problem, it was Evan. "Tell us what ya wanna do, Mac."

Evan walked over to Herman and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, "Tell em your plan, doc."

"Right," Herman nodded his head and stood at the front of the Saloon by the bar, "Everyone listen up."

The room fell into a quick silence, all eleven sets of eyes looking to the Doctor. Herman gazed at the room with his iridescent white eyes, thoroughly examining the expressions of everyone as he spoke, "I'm sure that many of you are aware of the new survivor (y/n) who has been being bullied rather harshly within trials. Although it is inaccurate to create assumptions as to why this is happening, we are still seeking out the answers and ask that you help aid us in the process."

Besides the uncontrollable cough from Jeffrey, no voices were raised so far. In fact most everyone seemed to be rather content on listening, and bore an essence of curiosity. "Our attempt tonight was tarnished by our new member, and an incident with Mr. Johnson has slimmed the chances of gaining her trust. As a result we ask that you steady your efforts during trials and seek out (y/n). We need her to know that our intentions are not compatible with the survivors. We only wish to help her."

"If it's such a pain trying to talk to this lady then why don't we just bust out one of the idiots doing the bullying?" Joey asked and gestured in visual dissatisfaction at his friend's bandaged head. Clearly he wasn't happy taking risks. 

Herman could understand his concern and would apologize for the incident later. For now he needed to make his point clear. "I don't believe it is that simple. Many survivors have proved their level of vengeance and the power of their demeanor in previous trials. Never have we witnessed assaults such as the ones performed on (y/n). Clearly this a personal matter that can only be addressed through her perspective. It is best to be cautious less we end up manipulated into believing something that isn't true."

"I got a question for ya, Carter," Caleb placed a hand on his hip, thumb tilting his hat upward as he accepted the Doctor's nod of approval, "Instead of running around like a herd'a chickens, why not talk to Dwight instead? He is the leader, ain't he?"

Max, Michael, and Freddy all looked around as if they were trying to avoid the poisonous acid that awkwardness would soon drench the air with. Herman gazed downwards, trying to keep from looking in Evan's direction as he said in a low tone, "I'm afraid that aspect is not a possibility either."

"An' why not?" Caleb had to ask, sounding non-amused. His lack of satisfaction was understandable, especially toward such an accurate idea.

Herman held back a sigh and explained, "Dwight has forbidden any of us from speaking to him."

"Why?" Frank squinted his eyes while trying to imagine any reason for that goofy weeb to shut any of them out.

Evan had his fists clenched vein tight, but in a moment of reflection he deflated and let out a hefty sigh. "You're right, doc," He gazed over at his friend, a look of uncertainty on his tired face, "Maybe it would help if I talked to em..."

"Are you sure, old friend?" Herman asked in a soft voice, making it perfectly clear that he wasn't putting any pressure on the miner.

Evan noticeably bit the inside of his lip as he nodded. "You know this isn't something you have to engage by yourself. Caleb or I can go for you," He heard the Doctor say and rose a hand to stop him.

"No," Evan turned his head away from the blinking eyes staring at him and mumbled, "Truth is I miss em... Wanna see if I can make things right again."

"Can someone tell me what the hells going on?" Danny demanded rather loudly.

"Shut up you ass hole," Frank snapped at him in a whisper voice, a harsh glare covering his face. He may not know what was going on but he did know what manners were.

Danny rose his hands up and shook his head, not understanding why he was the one getting all the hate around here. He was about to complain too until he heard Herman beginning to speak quietly to Evan, and leaned in to try and listen.

"I hope the best for you, Evan," Herman gave his friend a gentle, warm smile, "May Mr. Fairfield realize the importance of the light he tries to keep away."

"Don't try and flatter me," Evan suppressed a smile and began walking to the exit, "I'll be back soon, ya'll."

"So is there like a thing between you and Dwight?" Danny asked.

"Danny!" Frank rose his hand up to slap him only for Joey to hold him back. He thrashed once, growling dangerously.

Danny had flinched forward in his seat, thoroughly shocked by how obviously angered Frank was at him. Did he have a thing for Dwight too or what? He decided to ask later, thankful for the company of Joey at the moment.

Herman tilted his head and asked, "Would you like me to tell them?"

"Go for it," Evan said as if he could care less, waving his hand as he exited the Saloon.

Once he was gone, Herman fluidly explained that about a year ago Dwight and Evan were in an extreme relationship. They were nearly inseparable, always together and never apart. It was annoyingly sweet. But over time the disproportionate attention yielded to their teams caused a small uproar of chaos to erupt, and they had to take responsibility by spending some time away from one another by attending their teams. While Evan had straightened out his team quickly and efficiently, Dwight had been struggling hard with his own. Evan had tried to give him advice but Dwight took it the wrong way by seeing it more as lecturing than helping. He even thought Evan was showing off and 'taking pride' in being a better leader than him. Back then Evan wasn't as easy to talk to and his anger was posed on a thin line, so things had grown salty and soon led to Dwight demanding that he stay away from him.

Not much was said after that. The barrier that had once been comfortably sat down between survivors and killers had shot back up, and was still standing iron strong to this day. Friendly relationships were avoided and the toxicity rose up like poisonous gas. Not many said much but a lot of the killers could sense the hidden pain Evan was experiencing during that time. Even to this day his change of attitude spelled out just how much the tragic experience taught him. Survivors were always hard to cope with. Their 'innocence' was fueled by acidic grudgement that made them all the more inconsiderate and hard to approach. Most of the killers disliked the salty attitudes of the survivors, but Evan helped to ease their outlooks with his strong, empathetic heart. 

Evan's great will to understand difficult situations and accept the harshest of killers was truly a skill set to be admired. He gave everyone as much attention as he was able and tried to broaden the comfort zone so that everyone else may be more relaxed around one another. Herman didn't say it but he knew Evan was simply acting in the way he believed could have saved his relationship with Dwight all those months back. 

... 

As Evan made way for the survivor camp, he thought back to the days when he used to set up dark traps all around the gateway to his realm in order of keeping everyone out. He had to admit, he was pretty selfish and rude back then, preferring to keep himself at a distance from everyone else. Herman was the only one he let in willingly. Anyone else who wanted to speak with him could talk it out with his traps.

And that's exactly what Dwight did.

Bravely making his way over to discuss manners concerning Michael Myers stalking campers outside of trials, Dwight had ignorantly stepped into one of his traps. With serrated jaws keeping his leg held painfully in place with a deadly vice grip, the survivor leader had been extremely terrified when Evan emerged after sensing the commotion. Seeing who it was made the Trapper reluctant to approach the cowardly man, but killing him was no option. He didn't feel like being punished by the Entity again so he advanced with visual dissatisfaction. Helping Dwight out of the trap, Evan asked him what was so important that he needed to bother him for at such an unwelcome time.

That was when the flower bloomed. Their shared conversations soon led to the blossoming of their entire hell loop of a world. Dwight taught Evan the importance of team work, care and loyalty, and brought out emotions he had never really felt before. After while Evan was able to converse to his team members and discovered with great disappointment that it was Herman who had been dealing with their problems, and from the looks of it pretty well. To think he avoided everyone so greatly was an ill thought itself, but he stood up and took responsibility- not just for Dwight, but for his team. Rewards and intimacy were shared later. 

If only they hadn't gotten so invested with each other. Then maybe Dwight and Evan could have both supported their teams and spent frequent time with each other, but alas the break-up happened and Evan found himself at a whole new level of insanity by himself. Tilting his head up as he neared the survivor camp, Evan believed it was because of you that he found his forgotten spirits again. Seeing his team working together, fighting together and losing together with the iron will to keep going was truly spectacular. And it was all because of you.

Evan was hoping that he might be able to run into you during his journey, but his hopes were squandered as he was eyed down by a rather frustrated looking Meg. "And what do you want?" She asked, eyes squinted in a mockery of disgust as she kinked her hip out.

"I'm here to see Dwight," Evan informed, keeping his emotions measured and contained.

Meg huffed and turned around, "Tough luck then."

"I ain't leavin' till I see em," Evan stated firmly, crossing his arms in an act of stubbornness.

Meg turned back to give him an irritated glare, her braids skimming her cheeks as she shook her head before stomping off with another dramatic huff. Evan made a noise of frustration, wondering why the sour attitude, but he guessed that's what they were trying to figure out. Gazing around at the brittle, dark trees, he questioned where the light of the fire was and the music Kate some times used to play. Had things really gone this far south?

"Trapper?" Came the familiar timidness of Dwight's soft voice as he slowly came out from behind a tree, disbelief and hesitancy clear as daylight on his face, "What are you doing? You're not supposed to be here..."

"There's somethin' we need'a discuss," Evan decided to get straight to the point, "And it ain't about me... It's about a member of your team."

At the announcement, Dwight found himself swapping expressions with curiosity, shock and concern. "Really?" He mumbled in disbelief, his voice a pitch louder, "Who?"

"The new girl. (y/n)," Evan explained, watching Dwight's face for a possible opening, "Freinds of mine say they've been witnessin' unnecessary bullying happenin' to her from other survivors. Know of it?"

Dwight blinked, his eyes drawing over the ground, unconsciously wide as he tried recalling- well... you in general. "I... Didn't know," Come to think about it, he hadn't even seen you in over a week, "I haven't seen her in a while. She's never at the camp anymore so I don't know..."

"Well ya need'a look into it 'cause she's suffering one heck of a fight-"

"Don't," Dwight clenched his eyes shut, body noticeably tense as he balled his fist, voice heightened in anger, "Don't lecture me, Trapper, I'm not a child."

"Well then quit acting like one," Evan rose his own voice, taking a foreboding step forward and causing the shorter man to nearly jump back in startled fear, "You're the leader. Stop whining about every little thing and start lookin' after your team for God's sake."

Evan hated seeing Dwight so frightened like this, especially since he was the cause. The fact that Dwight wouldn't even call him by his own name made his chest ache with sadly troublesome emotions he did not like to think with. He hoped with the small of his heart that maybe there was a chance they could possibly recuperate... but now he wasn't so sure.

"Even if I could, you think it's that easy?" Dwight glared in alarm, throwing his arm out to the side in frustration, "They all do what they want and there's nothing I can do about it. Besides... I'm not the leader anymore..."

"What?" Evan barked in shock, his eyes wide. Impossible...

"Ace took over a couple weeks ago," Dwight closed in on himself, arms wrapped loosely around himself, "Told me I wasn't doing a good job and had David..." He winced.

Evan's blood boiled as he remembered what Herman had told him earlier. "Dwight," He visibly snarled in fury as he took another step forward, voice frighteningly serious as he asked, "What did King do to you?"

Dwight gasped at the sudden stance of the killer and lifted his hands up in surrender, "N-nothing! He just told me not to argue with Ace or else I'd regret it or something... I-I swear!"

Evan halted in his rampage, feeling slightly more calmed knowing that that egotistical idiot hadn't touched Dwight in the wrong way. But still... The news wasn't all that convincing nor satisfying. "Dwight..." Evan paused to squeeze the bridge of his nose with crushing strength, "Why the hell would ya let them do that?"

Dwight immediately defended himself, "You don't know anything that goes on around here, Trapper, so why don't you just mind your own business?"

"There's a survivor getting assaulted and you're tellin' me ya have the nerve to back out like some insignificant coward?" Evan lifted his hands out in disbelief.

"That's not my problem anymore!" Dwight hollered, his body trembling in mixed emotions, "Ace is the leader now. If you're so concerned why not try talking to him instead of lecturing me?"

"Because Ace is one'a the ones doing the assaults," Evan declared with a nasty growl. He was beginning to lose his gathered patience, "Ya need'a man up and do somethin'. Don't ya wanna protect your team?"

"I can't-"

"Ya can't or ya don't want to?" Evan nearly yelled.

Dwight flinched back behind the tree and stood still for a few moments, breathing quickly to himself. He peeked back and stared at Evan, stared him right in the eyes past his mask. He wasn't happy about how things ended either and was surprised to see Evan expressing this kind of devotion towards a person not even from his own team. But that little surprise didn't change the way of things in the slightest. "Just go, Evan." He said coldly. 

Evan felt as if frost had covered his body like a shadow, for an icy feeling settled deep within his heart and burned within the agitated cells of his brain. He was stunned with anger, disbelief, disappointment and hopelessness. He took a step back, a glare taking over his hidden face as his relaxed his fists. "Fine." He said in a low manner of retaliation, "Go hide in your lockers, Dwight... After all, it's what you've always done to avoid takin' responsibility."

Evan turned around and walked away with no word coming from the x-leader of the survivors. When he made it back to his own camp, he settled out the troublesome news to the team and helped Herman to explain the plan to the rest of the scattered killers. It was time to seek you out. It was obvious they couldn't get answers from Dwight. So they would get them from you.

... 

A month had passed since then and not one killer could be happy to inform that they even saw one tiny glimpse of you from their peripheral vision. It was obvious; you were avoiding everyone now. Since the incident with Danny, it was only safe to assume that you were now intent on staying a good distance away from both survivors and killers. How, was quite the difficult question. Herman theorized that you immediately sought out professional hiding spots when you entered a match to avoid being caught.

Other killers confirmed that after sacrificing at least three survivors and closing the hatch, they could hear your screams of pain at the end of the collapse as the Entity took your body away. The fact that you would rather die by the sharp, bone crushing claws of the Entity than face anyone at all was worth the bodily chills. It proved just how much pain you had really been experiencing.

Herman, Frank, and Evan had tried coming up with new plans, but it was futile. No one knew for certain if they would be in a trial with you. Not even Philip could confirm anything positive as he did silent perimeter checks among the realms from time to time. Herman had yet to go against you at all from the looks of things- most likely due to the fact he had let you live before- and was in need of a better strategy. They were all stressed out and at their lowest will by now, hopeless to think that they'd ever be able to find you.

"Michael," Herman walked quietly down the abandoned streets of Haddonfield, his hands behind his back as he stared at the dusty street, "I believe it is time."

Michael tilted his head upward, expression unknown as he gazed at the flickering street lights above them. He and Herman had been discussing this plan for a while now. It was like a backup statistic. One that Michael was not too happy to try, but past events proved that this may be their only chance.

"Are you ready?" Herman asked, looking to the silent killer.

Michael looked back at him and nodded once. It was time. Herman hummed and announced, "I will be waiting."


	5. When The Treasure Came to Them

You quietly wander behind anonymous stone pillars, cautiously peeking out from time to time to check out the commotion going on in the field. It was the Autohaven Wreckers. The other three team members were Claudette, Jake and Feng. And the killer... Michael Myers. Even though it had been a little over a month, you still got chills while thinking about that confusing night with the Executioner, however, it wasn't something you could afford to make a big fuss about. The best scenario to focus on now was avoiding everyone else at all costs. Yes, you felt bad for the other unfortunate survivors you were paired with, but after what happened with Ghostface you were determined to stay hidden.

Many matches involved you hiding in the basement, where generators had been finished or behind the random pillars that decorated the perimeter of the realm. Very few times would you get to escape for the team being short-numbered more often than not led to certain devastation, and the hatch was usually closed up before you ever grew the guts to find it. The Entity had taken your body into its razor sharp, bone crushing claws leaving you to miserably wake back up near camp more times than you could count. Instead of going back to the shack though, you would run away to the end of the forest and hide in tall patches of grass, sitting for hours alone, dwelling in your pain. Anymore you couldn't help but to feel utterly hated and lonesome, but that's just how things had to be.

Crouching behind a pile of junk near the broken down school bus, you feel your face run pale as Feng's last scream was cut short by the crushing death grip of Michael Myers. It had happened so fast, you realized with a pit of guilt rousing in your stomach. They didn't even get more than two generators complete before they all ended up strangled to death on the ground. He must have been in a mood, you thought bitterly and proceeded to quietly wander in and out of the school bus, waiting for the hatch to close so that the Entity could take you.

But such a thing never happened.

After fifteen minutes you began to sweat, nervousness and anxiety clouding your mind. Pulling down your handkerchief, you nibble lightly on your nails while trying to look around in all directions in case Michael might be stalking you. Where was he? What was he doing? Surely he would have found the hatch by now. You crouch down and grasp your head, running your cold fingers through your ruffled hair. Was he searching for you? Was that why this was taking so long? Did he want all his kills or you specifically? By now it wasn't any astonishing news that you were the irritating coward survivor who hid instead of worked. You bet a lot of people, both killers and survivors, hated your guts by now.

Studying the area sharply, you decide to try and see if you could find the hatch yourself. Hesitancy sat like a thousand pound bar over your shoulders. You wanted to stay hidden, but this waiting was getting ridiculous. As quietly and as quickly as you were able, you walk past the killer shack and crouched down beside a set of pillars nearby. There was a half working generator there along with Jake's dead body. Frowning in sadness, you continue on till you made it past the wall of broken, stacked vehicles.

And there you saw him.

Michael was standing among the hatch in the middle of the field in front of the gas station. Immediately you cover your mouth to silence your gasp, eyes wide in fear. He didn't really seem to be doing anything. The most you could see was the side of his far away body. Silent and immobile, he appeared to be simply staring at the open hatch like a boring piece of art. It made you swallow a lump of confusion growing tight within your throat. What was he doing?

About ten minutes passed before your body grew agonizingly tense and your mind was screaming at you in anticipation. Michael hadn't moved an inch while you were cluttering about behind the cars like a muted chicken. You weren't brave nor dumb enough to go out there openly, but you were tired of this sick anxiety and troublesome waiting, so you decided to sneak back to that half working generator.

Heart pounding ferociously, you look back and forth between the openings of the pillars while carefully pulling levers and meddling with wires. The sleeves to your brown sweater grew tattered and covered in grease. You scooted them up on your arms, eyes avoiding the dead body lying just five feet away from you. 'I'm sorry, Jake,' you felt your eyes water as you continued to repair the generator. The least you could have done was helped. Instead you were letting your fear of bullying get the better of you.

When the generator blasted to life with a loud roar, you ran to the back of the pillars and crouched down behind a couple of trees, waiting to see if the success had roused Michael from his camping spot. After about five minutes of nothing unusual happening, you snuck away to the next generator and started meddling with it. You assumed that the generator in the gas station was finished along with one in the field, and you guiltily thanked the others for leaving you with the more distantly hidden ones.

Each generator was finished with no problem and no interruption. After they were all finally brought to life, the sound of the exit gates powering to life filled your ears. Yet you weren't too excited though. After carefully examining and watching the same exit gate for the presence of Michael for a good ten minutes, you ended up slowly walking toward it. Head rearing back and forth to watch the many possible directions he could appear, you hesitantly grab the lever and pull it downwards. Wincing when it began to rumble loudly in approval, you turn your head to look at one end of the stack of vehicles, jerking back in alarm at seeing a briskly approaching Michael Myers.

Forgetting the gate door, you gasp and took off in the opposite direction. Michael was stomping after you, quickly. Your heart started to pound like a sinister drum, eyes wide and growing red with the intention of tears. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You remembered where the hatch was and made a bee line in its direction, but first you'd have to outrun this insane wall of smashed vehicles and the ever so fast and deadly Michael Myers.

What could he want with you? Why let you keep finishing generators just so that he could chase you down in the end? Why not close the hatch? Your eyes widened impossibly further and your heart skipped a beat as you thought... What if this was his plan all along? To put you in a false sense of security while thoroughly guarding the hatch to ensure that the end game wasn't triggered by any doors being opened or closed. It made perfect sense with the strategy he chose, toying with you like that and making you believe you actually had a chance.

What he wanted to do to you that demanded such a large amount of time was left only to the horrors of your imagination. You nearly sobbed, chest growing frantically heavy as you ran as fast as you could. He was getting close. You could hear his own husky breathing just a few meters behind you, his loud footsteps a beat of doom playing out inside your brain. To your fear you realize that making it past the wall wouldn't be possible without getting caught, so you made a sharp left turn and headed towards a gathering of pillars, hoping to lose him there or at least earn you some distance.

Tears streamed down your face as you practically felt his monstrous, hulking presence behind you, eyes squinting in disfocus at the vault just ten feet away. You hoped that you could make it, but had a strong fear that you wouldn't. Heart aching in misery at the thought of more bullying, you ended up crying out a very frightened, very loud pitched "No" as you were grabbed by the scruff of your sweater just as soon as you began to hop over the vault. 

You were lifted through the air for a moment before being hoisted over his shoulder where you cover your face and sob intensely, body shaking madly in fear. You didn't bother to wiggle. It would probably only anger him more. Not that you even could wiggle anyway as your disheveled emotions weakened your trembling body and made you as tense as a block of ice. You cry loudly, uncaring about your self promises to be strong and upbeat. This was a killer who was nearly seven feet tall, had enough brutal strength to easily lift the heaviest person up by the throat with one hand, and was merciless in his reputation. The thought of whatever torture he had in mind made you wish that you could just die right now. You wished the Entity would take you away before he had the chance to. 

After a minute or two of the killer walking in whatever unknown direction he intended, you whimpered and sobbed lightly as you were sat down on the ground. You covered your head protectively, eyes swollen red and nose snotty as you pressed your face into the small comforts of your handkerchief. This was it. Your body trembled greatly, heart beating fast while anxiously awaiting the new experience of torment that was surely fixing to happen.

A couple minutes went by and nothing happened. In that time your panic had ceased but was still mostly there, your arms shaking lightly as you lowered them and looked up. Michael was standing in front of you, his beloved steak knife no where to be seen as he pointed his masked nose down at you. Blinking in shock, you breathe quickly, eyes staring up at him in confusion. What was he doing? You release a few heavy breaths, body still tense and shaking.

Michael kneeled down suddenly. You gasp and flinched back, afraid of getting struck or forced upon. Yet no such thing happened. As you peek open your swollen eyes, you were shocked and confused to see his large palm lifted out toward you. Something nostalgic rose in your stomach from the familiar gesture, and your body unconsciously relaxed. Still on alert, you hesitantly lift your own arm out and place your cool, stiff fingers over his thick, warm ones. How come the killers had such toasty skin?

Gently pulling you to your feet, Michael gingerly let go of your hand and proceeded to stare down at you. Sniffing, you use your handkerchief to wipe your face, unsure of what to do. You hadn't put much thought into what happened with the Executioner. It all just felt like one big dream. Some times you thought you could recall seeing Freddy at one point, but the thing is it wasn't important. You had gotten away and that's all that had mattered, but now you were curious to know just what exactly Michael was doing with you.

"What do you want?" You whispered, voice so soft it was barely even heard. You wince lightly, afraid that he may lunge at any moment.

You supposed expecting an answer was futile as Michael was said to be the thoroughly silent type. You even felt rude for asking any questions at all. Tilting your head down, you bring your fingers together in a manner of nervousness, anticipating pain as you ask in the same soft voice, "That night with the Executioner... were you... protecting me?"

You weren't sure if that was necessarily the smartest thing to ask, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Besides, it wasn't like there was much else to have answered in this bizarre situation. Michael nodded. You felt your eyes widen, heart and voice stunned into silence. But why? You were unable to voice, throat too choked up as you remembered the happenings of that crazy night.

You had fallen into a blissfully deep sleep. Almost too deep. And you never slept heavy at all with your recurring insomnia and high alertness. For Michael to have been able to carry you for that long and that far away from the shack was truly spectacular and demandingly suspicious. Perhaps he had witnessed you entering the shed and stood by until he noticed the Executioner and attempted to take you to a safer place?

"I see," You breathe and use your arms to wrap around yourself, saying greatfully, "Thank you."

Michael lifted his hand out and pointed in the direction off to the side. You recognize it as the direction of the hatch and fumble in slight guilt. "I..." You were scared to speak, but you didn't want to just rudely leave after everything he had done for you, "I'm sorry about that night... I... I didn't know."

You remembered how you had shoved him back once you had woken up, but you were ignorant to the happenings and afraid of getting bullied. Looking up at him, you wonder what expression he must have been wearing behind that pale mask, and felt yourself wilt whenever he shook his head once and turned in the direction of the hatch. You bit your lip and followed him. You weren't sure if he forgave you or not, but you desperately hoped that he had. This whole trial was a mess and to think he had done it all just to settle- what? A deal with the Executioner from over a month ago? You didn't quite think so and thought suspiciously to yourself that there may be more going on than what he was making it out to be.

When you arrived at the hatch, you readjusted your scuffled handkerchief back over your nose and breathe in steadily, staring down at the exit presented rightfully before you. Looking to Michael who was standing leisurely off to the side, you take a step toward him and descended down to your knees, whispering lightly, "Thank you."

Michael's head tilted to the side as he examined you, remembering the story regarding Herman's experience. This was solid proof kneeling right before him. Just one simple, little act of kindness brought out this much gratitude and submission from you? Outrageous. Michael was beginning to believe that all of Frank and Herman's theories might just be correct.

Michael bent down slightly, his fingers brushing your thigh as he wrapped his hand around yours. You had winced, eyes growing wide with fear until he gently began to lead you back to your feet. He continued to hold your small, greasy hand within his own large, bloody one. You bit your lip again, eyes squinting closed as he lifted his free hand up and hooked the soft material of your handkerchief and tugged it downwards, exposing your scarred chin and mouth. You trembled as softly as a feather, eyes peeking open to gaze into the eye holes of his mask. He pressed his warm palm against your soft, exposed cheek and slid downwards causing you to shudder. 

His touch was so gentle, so warm... You nearly leaned into it with the desperation and need that your body had been suppressing since the day you got here. All the pain you had suffered. Not once had you experienced anything comforting besides what happened that one time with the Doctor. But that was only brief and the feeling was unfortunately beginning to fade away from your sad, lonely body. 

Whenever Michael slowly withdrew his hands, you uttered the smallest hint of a whimper, forcefully keeping yourself from following him and his gentle, warm, comforting presence. He vaguely gestured to the hatch. You lower your head and nod, turning around and sitting on the edge of the dark portal, turning back and whispering another greatful, "Thank you."

Then the darkness swallowed you up and took you away.

...

When you regenerated near camp, you reluctantly decided not to go back to your sorrowful hiding spot at the edge of the woods, and began to head in the direction of the shed you once took refuge at. You weren't entirely positive about this. It could be a trap set to lure you into a vulnerable position. However, the whole scenario with Michael just didn't make enough sense with the lone answer of him trying to protect you against the Executioner. Too many questions in between the lines kept raging through the storm inside your head. You were torn up, your emotions all over the place.

Why had Michael Myers tried to save you from the Executioner? Why was he even there in the first place? How could you have been asleep that whole time? In just what direction did his motives lean to?

You thought and thought about many circumstances, eyes gazing up at the beautiful harvest moon in the star sprinkled sky. Oh, how you wished to be free from this world. How you got here was a mystery itself, but there wasn't any use questioning it. You were stuck here, so might as well try to learn and live with it.

When you made it to the shed, you steadily gaze around the perimeter before deeming yourself perfectly alone. You wander to the broken door of the shed and see that all the leaves you had gathered had slightly blown outside over time. Figures... But there was one thing that was still there. Something you honestly didn't believe you'd ever see again. The blanket that the Doctor had given you.

You slowly walk inside and kneel down, grasping the soft blanket in between your cool fingers and remembering the absolute welcome, appreciation and comfort it had once brought you. You close your eyes and hold it close to your chest, feeling the yearning inside your heart throb like an overflowing tub. One person who showed you respect and you hadn't gotten to see him ever since. You wilt, arms lowering to your lap as you wonder what it could be like to be respected by everyone else around here.

"Hello (y/n)."

You made a rather embarrassing noise of startlement, jumping to your feet and whipping around in a matter of seconds. Your handkerchief ruffled against your face, turning sideways as you tripped over the blanket. There, standing tall, strong and measured in the doorway was the very man you had been previously thinking about. The Doctor. He was wearing his casual dark green and brown suit though the strap on his head in which he usually used to hold his eyes and mouth open was missing, and his pink eyes shown brightly. You were stunned by the view, but alarm had eaten up your ability to properly admire it.

Herman tilted his head downward, his rather thick lips drawn into a small, simple smile of invitation. "How are you doing tonight?" He asked, his voice far smoother and richer than the madness you would have expected it to be.

Your eyes widened in shock at his question, but you were still on medium alert in case this somehow took a wild turn. Apart of you was actually extremely touched that he was here and asking about you, but your common sense beat down your hopes and admirations. "Umm," You brought your hands up to fumble against your chest, voice quiet and soft as you answered, "Good I guess... And you?"

Herman's smile broadened as he squinted his eyes at your timid kindness, "As good as any man on a midnight walk can be. Especially since I find myself running into such a beautiful, young lady."

Your cheeks turned red so fast that you were thanking the very Entity itself that you were still wearing your handkerchief. Quite frankly you were surprised it wasn't catching on fire by how hot your face had become. Bowing your head, you press your clothed face against your knuckles and struggle not to whimper.

"(y/n) my dear," Herman's deep, sultry voice became slightly more professional and serious as he gave you a look of importance, "It's been a while since we last saw each other. There is something that I have been meaning to discuss with you. Would you mind following us back to our camp. I do promise that we will provide secure passage."

We? You blink, face still warm as you looked past the Doctor and spotted the undeniable mass that belonged to the Shape. Michael had come as well? You gulp, unsure about this. You look back to the Doctor and bow your head slightly further, afraid to say anything that would get you in trouble. "I don't understand," You whisper, body beginning to tremble, "What is this about?"

Herman made it clear and simple, "The way you have been being bullied."

At those words your eyes snapped open, becoming as wide as the full moon. You stare at the Doctor, heart racing in unexpected waves of newfound emotions. That certainly wasn't what you expected to hear, but you supposed he did witness quite a show back then. "You mean..." The realization that the killers had been personally discussing the matters of your life amongst each other setlled in like liquid concrete, making your blood rush, "They know about that?"

"We have all had our fair share of experience," Herman addressed and lifted his hand upward in gesture to nothing in particular, "And we wish to help you find a way to end this unnecessary torment."

You went silent after that, completely stolen of words to say. The ball of pure appreciation sprouting to life inside your heart was painfully hesitant to bloom in case this was a dream or some sort of sick joke. The fact that the killers wanted to help you was the birth of a world made by fantasy. It was unreal. The very most you could utter was a small, "But why?" 

Herman's gentle, charming smile and kind, luminescent eyes made you feel a tiny bit more at ease, but you were still abashed by disbelief and uncertainty. "My dear, you already deal with plenty by facing the stress that we as your enemy bring. It is not fair for you to have to face such behavior from the very teammates you are supposed to rely on."

His words seeped right through the cracks of your lonely, broken heart causing you to lightly whimper, bringing your hands up to hold over your chest. The fact that someone understood what you were going through and genuinely wanted to help you was almost too much. You feel utterly commended but were still heavily highlighted by fear and doubt. The whole situation was a bit much to take in so suddenly. You weren't even sure if you were brave enough to speak anymore.

"What do you say, my dear?" Herman lifted his hand out, that same warm, inviting look on his face, "Will you come with us in pursuit of your beneficiation?"

It was almost as if you were being accepted into a sanctuary. You look back in between Michael and the Doctor, feeling uncertain and ecstatic at the same time. You weren't one for taking bold chances with strangers, but in this world there was little other option. If they were true to their word and wanted to help you, you would happily take the support. You just hoped that this wasn't a scheme or would end up backlashing against you.

Slowly you nod your head.

Herman smiled and took a step back, kindly presenting the exit way for you. Face still very warm, you readjusted your handkerchief and slowly begin to walk forward. "I must apologize for the incident with Michael and our new member," You heard the Doctor say.

"You mean the Executioner?" You ask in your soft voice, eyes looking back at the Doctor as you made it outside. Michael was standing casually off to the side. Biting your lip nervously, you separate your hands for a second to give him a small, bashful wave. He merely nodded once in return.

"Ah, so that's what you call him, hm?" Herman rubbed his chin while thinking about how some times survivors magically knew their names as if the Entity had invaded their minds at night, "Well I suppose it does suit him."

"Is he here?" You ask timidly, eyes hesitantly scanning the perimeter.

As he began walking forward, Herman looked back to you and offered a gentle smile of reassurance. "Not to my knowledge, but you need not worry. The Executioner has been dealt with. He knows by now that unnecessary attacks outside of trials are forbidden." He explained.

"I... I see," You shuddered, wondering how such a reckless, monstrous man could have been dealt with by anyone. "That night..." You whispered while remembering the unanswered incident so long ago.

"Ah yes," Herman seemed to read your mind, "I suppose we should apologize for that as well."

"What happened?" You ask while carefully walking behind the Doctor, mindfully keeping your distance out of respect and faint doubt.

"We had attempted to bring you in while you were resting... However," Herman gazed back at Michael, "Matters took a rather unforseen turn when the Executioner intervened and attempted to slaughter you. We all struggled to keep you out of his reach."

Oh. You tilt your head downwards. So that's what happened? It was a bit confusing that they'd try and get you while you were asleep but you supposed in any other circumstance you would have ran away like you did after waking up in Michael's arms. Smaller, overlooked questions began to stir once again in your head, and you found yourself softly asking, "Who else was there?"

Herman gestured to himself and Michael and explained, "We had Mr. Krueger keeping you asleep whilst Michael carried you. Our leader Evan aided us as well as Mr. Morrison."

Who the heck was Krueger, Evan and Morrison? You squint your eyes while trying to recall what little of the names you had learned when you first arrived. You slightly recall Krueger to be the dream killer Freddy's last name but other than him you had no idea who the other names belonged to. A tiny buzz of amusement took you over as you thought back to that blissful night of sleep, and it was given to you by such a feisty, cruel man. It was nice to think that such a person desired to help you as well.

"We will be arriving soon, my dear." You weren't sure if you should be more terrified or excited.


	6. Be Gone My Trembling Hands

* * *

There was no denying that throbbing inside you was an enormous cauldron of hope, appreciation and a starvation from need of acceptance, but the cold, dark fear that brewed around you was holding back those feelings. The real world had been tough and lonesome, but hardly as unfair as life here stood to be. If this even was a place to consider living life happily in. You had shunned out your hope after days and days of both mental and physical suffering. The betrayal and treachery had eaten up all your hope for an understanding hand or pat of gratitude. Considering those unshakable facts, you were a bit reluctant to keep moving forward with your newfound acquaintances.

It was difficult and a bit extreme to believe that the killers-of all people- had taken your pitiful problems into consideration. There was no denying the thought of such genuineness touched you greatly, but that steady hold back of hope kept your body stiff and senses on high alert. It was simple; you didn't want to be hurt anymore. It was the only reason you were going along with this insane, out of the world plan. Even if you were terrified, you still wanted to try out that tiny, last bit of standing hope that still shined brightly outside the cages of darkness clinging around you. If you could find a way to end your torment and maybe even possibly make friends in the process, you would give it a shot.

"Is..." You hesitate, lips pressing tightly together behind your handkerchief as you fret over asking the question, "Is everyone nice... like you and Michael?"

Herman slowed down, his feet matching the short, hesitant steps of your own as he peered down at you. Feeling the weight of his gaze, you look up at him and then back to the ground, afraid that he didn't approve of your pitiful, naive questions. "I can't say that all of us are on equal footing, but those of us who are in agreement usually tend to stay together," You heard him speak, admiring the rich sincerity of his voice, "Though there are a few who may seem rude at first, you'll come to understand that that is merely their own way of expressing affection."

You nod while listening, wondering who all that you knew of would be there. There were a few killers who really scared you like Freddy, Leatherface, Legion, Hillbilly and Huntress, but if the Doctor and Shape were as friendly as they seemed, maybe there was a chance the others were as well. You hadn't been here long enough to experience every killer but those you had encountered were very chilling and inhospitable. Hopefully they were different behind the scenes.

"I see," You say calmly, eyes tracing along the grass as you continued to walk.

Herman studied you like one of his experiments, his eyes turning white for a moment as he asked, "Is there anyone we should be aware of that you may not be comfortable around?"

Your heart skipped at the question, eyes fluttering upwards to gaze at the hulking man beside you. His eyes were different, you noticed and blinked in awe. Could he do that on command? You almost smiled in wonderment but the registration of the question caused your brain to snap as memories unfolded. Your shoulders tensed and you gazed away, voice holding back as you thought about the incident with Ghostface. Such an embarrassing, terrible experience. You never wanted to see him again.

"I'm..." You didn't want to seem like the rude, selfish type and end up on their bad side in case it was someone they were close to, "I'm alright... thank you for asking though."

Herman hummed at your modesty and will to keep your discomfort out of mind in order of keeping everyone else compliant. If only you knew that reading you was easier than an elementary school book. "What about Mr. Johnson?" He casually spoke, making it seem as if it were no big deal. 

"Mr. Johnson?" You repeat, eyes rolling around as you tried to remember anyone who held that name. The recognition never came though, and you were timidly looking at the Doctor in slight confusion. 

Herman nodded his head and lifted his fingers in consideration, "Right. You most likely know him as Ghostface." 

At the mention of the name you ended up halting dead in your tracks, hands coming close to your chest as unease clouded your mind. You squint your eyes, wincing lightly as you ask softly, "You know about that?" 

The unyielding embarrassment that rose in your body was nearly overwhelming. You had to clench your eyes shut as you thought about how many people had now seen those humiliating photos of you. What if they thought it was amusing? Obviously if the Doctor knew about it, then others did as well. You whimpered in misery.

"A few of us were unfortunate to witness the immaturity of his scheme, but if it is any consolation, we did have quite the talk about his actions. Evan confiscated his phone and made him delete all the inappropriate pictures he possessed- yours included," Herman stopped to explain, his voice smooth and comforting as he stared down at your humiliated stance. "Mr. Johnson won't be bothering you any longer."

A flood of thankfulness drowned your senses and brought on a considerable amount of relief, but the embarrassment still lingered. It was becoming more and more clear that these people truly intended to help you if punishing one of their own for your better behalf wasn't enough proof. You take in a small breath and look up at the Doctor, saying softly, "Thank you."

Herman offered one of his charming smiles and lifted his hand out in gesture to the road you all were taking. "Always a pleasure, my dear," He watched as your eyes presented their own timid smile before turning to stare at Michael for a few seconds. You were so kind and gentle. Who in their right mind would ever want to harm you?

You all began to walk forward once more, the quietness of the night whipping around you and adding an additional calmness to the journey. It wasn't but just a few minutes when a wall came into view, holding an arrangement of what looked to be exit gates. Your eyes widened in amazement at the extraordinary view. "Are those..." You felt your lips part in a loss for speech.

"The gate ways to our realms?" Herman's chest lifted at your amazement, "Yes it is."

You wowed the broad spectrum of gates, noticing how there were some that were closed and others wide open for the taking. Was this their camp? Did they actually get to stay in their realms after trials? You felt a tad bit of jealousy in the matter considering that all survivors had was a cheap camping ground with no privacy or anything comfortable to lay on. However, you did suppose that some realms were rather trashy, smelled bad, and were overall just out right disgusting like the Meat Packing Plant and Hawkins.

"You're welcome any time you like," Herman led you in the direction of one particular, wooden gate and explained, "We normally gather here at Glenvale."

"Is that where everyone else is?" You ask timidly, hands fidgeting together and tugging on your loose sleeves. Now that you were so close to meeting everyone else, you couldn't help but to feel even more exposed and threatened. They were killers after all. To what extent did they owe you any respect or kindness?

Herman hummed and rubbed his chin, "Yes. Don't mind if they act surprised. We hadn't alerted them of our private attempt interrogating you."

He almost made it sound as if you were a wanted fugitive being brought into a police station. You bow your head slightly and gulp, feeling a light sweat break out across your limbs as you fought hard not to start trembling. As you stood before the gate, you peer into the dusty sunshine rays of Glenvale and tilt your head curiously at the neat, clean sight of it. The air was warm and fresh and not reeking with the foul stench of dead bodies and hungry vultures. It was nearly inviting.

"Well I'll be spittin' dimes," You tense slightly when a tall man suddenly stood from a chair behind the front opening of the gate and walked towards you. He was tall with a country styled hat sitting on his head of long blonde hair. His eyes deemed brown with a constant glowing white shine to them, and his clothes matched the brand of his hat. He looked as if he were pulled straight out of the early nineteen-hundreds. "Ya actually got'r to come in."

"Without a doubt," Herman said in his charming, confident voice and looked to you, "(y/n), this is Mr. Quinn."

"Call me Caleb," The man tipped his hat upward and placed his hands on his hips, eyes seemingly spectating you.

You shift nervously under his gaze, heart pounding in silent fear inside your chest. Desperately you try to keep that little ounce of courage and hope close to you, but the fear was strong and nagging. You were afraid. "Hi..." You say softly, voice somewhat trembling, "It's nice to meet you."

Caleb looked from you to Herman, his expression changing to that of realization. You weren't a survivor he had personally witnessed in trials yet, so he didn't quite know what to expect when others spoke of you. Now standing before him, you were basically the spitting image of what everyone made you out to be.

"Likewise, lil' lady," He bowed his head at you and smirked.

You feel a tad bit more at ease, mostly because Michael had inched a ways in front of you, but Caleb's faint display of kindness did warm your heart. Herman smiled at how well this was going so far, seeing your usually frightened, tense frame relax in reaction to their genuine gentility. "Are the others aware?" He asked the other man.

Caleb shook his head, "Jus' myself."

"I see," Herman pursed his lips and looked to you, asking with a smile shining of confidence, "My dear, are you ready?"

No. You nod your head slowly, hands fumbling together in nervousness. There was no telling which killers were hidden in there. Frankly you weren't nearly as prepared as you would like to be. This was all so sudden and happening too quickly. Despite the three you had already met, you were afraid everyone else would be rude, judgemental or cruel. What if they wanted to bully you?

As Michael and Herman began to make way for the main building, you tread behind slightly to gaze around at the cleanly scenery. It was spectacular. The place looked brand new and tighty. No scraps, bodies or messy trailer parts were scattered anywhere, and the boards to the buildings remained strong and intact. The dirt road bore fresh and old footprints that you idly wonder if belonged to any of the others.

"Ain't ever been to Glenvale before, I reckon?" Caleb asked after studying your ever changing eyes of envy.

You release a small gasp and look up at him, just now noticing that he had been walking right beside you. Were you really that distracted? "Oh-uh... Yeah, I've been here. It's just... I've never seen it look so nice," You admit and then instantly regret it, body going stiff and eyes panicked, "Not that it didn't look nice before- I just..."

You slowed down and whimpered, terrified that you had offended the tall, western killer. Some good first impression. Too bad there weren't any lockers for you to hide in. Maybe you could hide in a bush or run out the exit gate? To your surprise, you hear the man chuckle and turn to gaze hopefully up at him.

"All realms'r like this when ya ain't in trials," Caleb explained with a grin of amusement, "Ya jus' gotta give em a gander every once an' a while."

"Really?" You gaze around once more before asking, "Was this your home?"

Caleb looked forward and shrugged, taking a look around himself before stating casually, "A small piece of it, I reckon. Ain't the best but I pay it my respects."

"It's... beautiful, I think," You say softly, gazing at the dirty ground. In front of you, Herman looked to Michael and smirked. 

Caleb gazed down at you for a few seconds, his brows kinking, "Thank ya." 

Within seconds you were upon the steps of the Dead Dawg Saloon. You stop along with Herman and Michael, body growing painfully tight with anticipation. This must be where everyone hung out. You breathe shakily, totally not one-hundred percent sure about this but you weren't going to back out. Herman smiled at your nod of confirmation and opened one half of the swinging door as Michael passed through the other side.

You hesitantly walk forward and quietly thank Herman and Caleb for holding the doors open for you. Once you were inside the old themed, smokey smelling Saloon, you tilt your head up and freeze at realizing that every set of eyes in the room were dead set on you. A man who you recognized to be part of the Legion shot to his feet so fast it sounded as if he hit his knee painfully hard on the table. You wince at him, gasping when you hear a rather piggish sounding squeal from the other side of the room and look to see Leatherface standing up from a table adorning the Hillbilly and Clown. Several other killers took refuge among the room causing your body to quake lightly.

"Doc, is that...?" Evan approached his closest friend from behind the bar, his footsteps slow as disbelief and shock took over his face.

"(y/n)?" Herman cocked an eyebrow of pride at him before gesturing to your shy figure, "Yes it is. Now we can finally discuss our important matters. (y/n), this is our leader, Evan MacMillan."

The Trapper? You blink, unable to believe what your eyes were seeing. His face was tough, scarred and strong, his sunken, ocean blue eyes truly breath taking. He was surprisingly handsome like the Doctor who without his straps seemed much more endearing. He was also the one who made Ghostface delete those pictures of you. It was adequate to assume he was kind, but you weren't too sure. Even though he was striking that didn't mean his aura wasn't shining with anger, strictness and cruelty.

"Hi," You ended up having to whisper, throat so lumped up with fear you could barely speak. Unintentionally you had shied slightly more behind the Doctor, seeking his masculinity to block all the lurking eyes on your body.

Evan seemed to notice your distress and moved directly in front of you to block you from all the other lingering eyes. "Why don't we talk outside real quick?" He offered, his voice rather tiresome but vibrating with authority.

"Yes, I believe that would be best," Herman agreed and placed a comforting hand on your tense shoulder. You winced at the contact, afraid that the grip would turn tight and painful like the times when David grabbed you. But his fingers remained gentle against the fabric covering your delicate skin, and his implication nudge urged your frozen body back out the door.

Once you were outside, you were horrified to notice that you had tears in your eyes and your body was shaking up a storm. You looked down at your hands and try not to hyperventilate as you see just how hard they were trembling. Were you really that disoriented by a simple group of people? Well... clearly they weren't simple but they were supposed to be willing to help you. Yet you just couldn't bring yourself to believe it was possible.

"Are you alright, dear?" Herman asked, his voice grown in concern as he gently squeezed your shoulder.

"Well of course she ain't, doc. Look at her," Evan moved past his friend and reached down to grab your trembling hand, his voice grumbly but soft as he said, "Here. Take a seat."

Although terrified out of your skin, you allow him to guide you to the steps where you sat down and proceed to breathe shakily in fear. Evan was bigger than David. Heck, most of them were. David was a cruel, ill tempered, forceful man, and he was just a survivor. These were actual killers who were beyond powerful and deceitful. There was no telling what they could do to you especially while grouped up in such large quantities.

"Doc, why didn't ya tell me 'bout this sooner?" Evan mumbled in his friend's ear.

Herman tilted his head back and whispered, "We didn't expect her to cooperate this much. Please understand this situation is dire. We must calm her down."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, Doc," Evan cut himself short of a growl and grabbed the bridge of his nose for a split second. He sighed, eyes gazing down at your cowering pose on the steps, "But how'r we supposed to do that?"

"Yo Doc, why didn't you tell us you were bringing her here?" The illusive sound of the Saloon doors springing open happened, along with the eager tap of footsteps as Freddy, Frank and Bubba came wandering out.

Evan pointed at them, "Ya need'a give us a moment, ya'll."

"What the fucks going on?" Frank demanded in the same mumbling tone once he understood they were trying to be secretive for some weird reason, "How did she get here?"

"Michael was able to persuade her," Herman was about to explain more until Frank sneered in. 

"And you didn't think to tell us about it?" 

"Yeah? Ungrateful bitches," Freddy crossed his arms and glared unhappily at the others. 

Evan looked his friend in the eyes and admitted, "They got a point, Doc. Ya should'a said somethin' and I would'a got this place cleared out for her." 

"Wait, so you were gonna leave me out of the picture?" Frank scuffed in disbelief. 

Evan gave him a sideways glance of annoyance, "Look at're, kid, she's scared all to hell. We don't need too many people hogging her right now."

"Who said we'd be hogging her?" Their battle of whispers and grumbles continued quietly within their little group bubble. All the while you were slowly being approached.

Having slipped your handkerchief loose to wipe your eyes, you ended up gasping in alarm when none other than Leatherface stood before you. Your trembling had not gone down in the slightest. You felt like a leaf in fall. All the sudden commotion and lack of knowledge about what was to happen to you made you unbalanced and horribly afraid. You didn't know what to expect. Looking up at the big man in front of you, you couldn't help but to realize that Leatherface lacked his yellow apron, and his clothes were rather clean at first sight. His mask hid most of his expression, but based on the head tilt he made, you knew he was interested in you. The question of how and why made you shy back and whimper.

Bubba had noticed your discomfort from the moment you walked into the Saloon and had continued to examine your stature since. Seeing the moisture gathered in your swollen eyes, plus the great fear your body was literally vibrating with, he couldn't help but to advance. He stepped toward you and made a small squeal as he lifted his palms out, head vigorously nodding as he shook his hands. 

You felt your lips tremble open and closed as you stared in bewilderment up at the large man, unsure what his motives were. He was a rather merciless killer by what you knew, and was terrifying in general. You had no idea whether it was pressure or curiosity that drove you into hesitantly reaching out to place your shaking hands on top of his. You released a small sound of surprise when you were tugged from the ground, feet stumbling as you tried to feign balance but ended up planting right against his chest. 

At first you had no idea what was going on. Your mind had went blank with terror and your body tense as a brick. You remained frozen for a few seconds before forcefully opening your blurry eyes once the lack of pain settled in. You felt something brush the back of your head, gently. Your arms were trapped beneath bigger, stronger ones, and your body was pressed against the large, warm torso of Leatherface. His soft pecks nestled the side of your head as one of his hands continued to gently rub the back of your head while his free arm held you securely against him. 

Your eyes had gone so wide that you swore the tears could be blamed on the dusty air. You had trouble breathing as your heart fluttered furiously in confusion and other tingly emotions you hadn't felt in a long, long time. His body, his touch and hold was so secure, so comforting and warm. You move your head slightly, feeling his fingers brush through your hair before coming back up to gently massage your scalp for a few seconds to continue the repeating cycle. Was this even real? You blink, watery eyes closing as you finally release a choked breath and begin to take in air regularly. Your body relaxed. It was as if his kind, gentle touch was magically erasing all the fear in your distressed mind.

Slowly, you moved your arms up to wrap around his back and get a small noise of what you assumed was content in response. You whimpered as your limbs eventually began to stop shaking. If this was real, then a big part of you never wanted it to end. It had been so, so long since anyone had ever held you like this. The safety and warmth you felt was almost overwhelming. The ever vast beat of your heart faded away into the comforts of Bubba's strong, soft arms.

Behind you, Evan was the first to notice your position and immediately hushed everyone who was still arguing. They all rose their arms in protest but eventually went quiet at their leader's notification. Herman watched as Bubba gently stroked your hair and rubbed your upper back, the sight causing a warm smile to spread his lips. Ah yes. Leave it to Bubba to make just about anyone feel better. Everyone knew Bubba had a way of wanting to comfort anyone who was sad or hurt. It was just his nature. Your eased, relaxed body was proof of that fact.

You weren't sure how long you had stayed wrapped up in Bubba's arms before he made a curious noise and pulled you back. Heavy eyes blinking open, you look up at him as he gently cupped your face and made a small squeal. "Thank you," You whisper, voice filled with appreciation instead of fear.

Bubba seemed to nod his head excitedly, hands going to pat your shoulders. You didn't even wince at the kind, comforting contact, a tiny smile tugging at your lips. Leatherface's trial behavior was something to consider reckless and worthy of avoiding, but here he was so kind and sweet... almost cute. You found yourself blushing, fingers pressing together as you gaze downward only to realize in a moment of panic that you had misplaced your handkerchief. Oh no. You vigorously turn your head in search for it.

"Looking for this?" You turn around and nearly come face to face with a man who appeared to be about your age with short brown hair and dark hazel eyes. Taking notice to his grey jacket you knew it was one of the Legion members and felt a sudden surge of fear flow through your veins.

Frank thoroughly patted out all the dust covering your handkerchief and threw on a small smile as he handed it outward. "You should be more careful, you know," He teased, grinning at your noticeable nervous lip bite.

You felt your cheeks darken as you reach out for your handkerchief, fingers accidentally brushing his palm as you take hold of the soft material and pull it away. "Thank you," You say softly, eyes averted to the ground once again.

"We'd like to apologize for overwhelmin' ya like this," Evan crossed his arms and glowered at his friend, "As in 'we' I actually mean Doc here."

"It's okay," You say lightly, taking a step back beside Bubba and fiddling gently with your handkerchief, "I'm sorry for being so scared.... I've never- I mean I..."

Herman nodded at his best friend in silent communication. It was obvious that you were frightened and you had every reason to be. "(y/n) my dear, there's really no need to apologize for being afraid," He gave you a look of acceptance, "We understand that this must all be very abrupt for you, and that it is to be expected that you may be disoriented. All we ask is that you know that we have only intentions of helping you."

"Docs right," Evan pointed at himself, "Anyone here in their right mind knows that if they're messin' with you they're messin' with me. We've got ya covered, darlin'. All we want ya to do is sit down and talk."

You felt significantly relieved by the phrase, and felt your body deflate from a decent amount of tension. Fingers tracing the smooth fabric of your handkerchief, you decide to trust them. They had yet to do anything out of the ordinary besides Leatherface giving you a hug, but that was always an act to be joyfully welcomed aside other circumstances. And if Evan swore protection during your stay, you would gladly accept it.

"Alright," You agree in your soft tone and nod at their leader, hands gripping your handkerchief tightly, "Thank you... for everything."

Evan raised an eyebrow at your easily earned gratitude. Guess Doc wasn't lying after all. "If ya want, ya can stay out here an' let Doc introduce ya to the others. I'll go get us a table cleared."

You were shocked by his kindness and felt the urge to tell him that that wasn't necessary. You would like to meet the others, but he didn't have to bother anyone or waste his time in order of clearing a table for you. However, he seemed rather intent with the idea and that was enough to make you internally collapse in agreement. "I... I would like that a lot. Thank you," You managed a small smile and timidly nod.

"Not a problem," Evan tilted his head at you before turning around to head back inside the Saloon, leaving you in the care of Herman and the others.


	7. Orange Eyes in Interrogation

As you watched the leader of the killers walk back inside the Saloon, you absent-mindedly fiddle with your handkerchief, squeezing the soft, comforting material and hoping that Evan stood true to his word and offered protection and aid. You were still relevantly tense, arms stiff as you softly bite your lip and look in the Doctor's direction. He smiled at you and lifted his hand up in gesture to the man you assumed was the dream demon. However, the moment his mouth opened to speak he was cut off by another voice, and you were gasping a small "oh" of surprise as an arm came from out of no where and slung over your shoulder.

"Sup sweetness," Tugged partially against a slim chest, you whimper in mild fear and timidly look to the man whom you recognized to be one of the Legion members. His eyes were a dark, brownish hazel that matched his short hair in which lay exposed to the sun as his hood was graciously lowered. It was the first time you had seen one of the Legion without their mask, and there was no doubt his simple yet fine structured face was considerably attractive. The realization made you wonder if all the killers were breath takingly stunning behind their masks.

Feeling your cheeks heat up far faster than you would have liked, you waver your lips and tense up in his somewhat firm hold. He wasn't harming you nor showing any intention of such deviousness, but you couldn't help your poisonous, wide spread doubt. He was smiling at you, his small dimples contrasting beautifully in tune with his curved lips while his eyes stayed focused on yours.

"Names Frank," He pointed his free thumb at himself and grinned, giving you a more determined look while saying, "Just wanna let you know that we're gonna get to the bottom of this, alright? Those shit heads who've been bullying you? Just leave it to me. I'll set them so straight they'll break down like little pussies before they ever think about touching you again."

His arm flexed around you causing you to whimper again, his words repeating inside your overwhelmed mind. Desperately you fought with your body not to start trembling again because obviously he wasn't harming you, but there was something triggering about his demeanor and language that made you want to distance yourself. Embarrassment rose to the surface as you remembered that this was the same Legion member who had been there during the spray paint incident. Is that why he was so determined to help?

"Th-thank you," You stutter softly, breath shaky as you nod at him, eyes still glossy with tears of tangled up emotions, "It's nice to meet you... Frank."

"Hey, you too, sweetness," He patted your arm and pointed his eyes across from the both of you, his expression turning sarcastically dissatisfied for a moment as he explained, "Hermans kind of old school when it comes to introducing people, so why don't I?"

Herman tilted his head down at the younger killer and smiled in a very discontented way. Oh Frank. He should have already been expecting the young killer to throw himself in head strong like usual. "Don't mind him, my dear, he's a bit grotesque at times," He gave you a small nod and made a face that caused you to grin.

Frank shook his head and pretended not to understand what Herman was talking about. "Pfft, yeah right," He rolled his eyes and waved briefly at the dream demon, "If anyones grotesque it's Freddy..." He paused and mumbled in your ear, "Be careful, his breath really stinks."

You gave the Legion member a shocked look before gazing at the dream demon who was stomping his way over to you, "What'd you say, bitch?"

Frank let go of you causing you to immediately shy back towards the large man who had given you a hug. You feared the two shorter killers might fight but such frets were interrupted by the charming serenity of the Doctor's calm voice. "Should I repeat myself?" He smiled sarcastically and gestured to the arguing pair.

It was in that moment that you remembered what exactly Herman had told you. Some killers' attitudes might seem rude but were merely how they show affection. Odd but accurate considering the goofy way Frank and Freddy were griping at one another. You smile and nod in understanding before looking up at the man beside you, asking in your light, soft voice, "And what's your name?"

"This is Mr. Sawyer," Herman stood before the both of you and smiled proudly, "Though you may call him Bubba if you would like. Mr. Sawyer is without a doubt our kindest member."

"Really?" You smile in wonder whenever Bubba seemed to squeal lightly at the praise, his head nodding excitedly. You felt your cheeks darken in adoration at his little noises and movements of joy, "I understand why."

Bubba released another squeal and patted your shoulder a couple of times before looking you in the eyes. He made a mumbled pig noise and pointed at you, to himself and then nodded vigorously. You squint your eyes in slight confusion at the gesture, unsure of what he was attempting to imply. "I'm sorry-"

"I believe Mr. Sawyer is trying to say that if you should ever need anything, he will always be there for you," Herman gave the large man a small nod to which Bubba agreed with excitedly, his head nodding quickly as he gave your shoulder a few more soft pats.

Deep inside you a forgotten pot of emotions and feelings were brewing to life like a magical spell. All the weeks of suffering, doubt, abandonment and fear had solidified your conscience to the point you were nearly unable to recollect what love, care and appreciation even felt like anymore. It had been foreign and lost to you. Yet now... Even though there was still a great lot to be questionable and cautious about, you found yourself surrounded by a group of people who were willing to help you and were even showing clear signs of affection in their quake. And your heart, broken and afraid, was slowly becoming desperate for hope that this may all stay as generous as it was starting. 

"I really appreciate that, thank you... Bubba," You slowly reach up and carefully pat his large hand- a very bold act that surprised you greatly- returning your affections. Bubba noticeably grinned through the gap in his mask, his slightly crooked teeth making him all the more endearing.

"I got us a table ready," Said the deep, sultry tone of Evan's tired yet authoritative voice as he pushed himself out the Saloon doors. He gave everyone a brief glance before letting his serious eyes stop upon you, "Everyone been good so far?"

Feeling Bubba's hand slip off your shoulder, you give him a small smile and nod before looking to the leader. "Everyones been very nice, I-I don't know how to thank you enough, I..." You began to bow your head.

"Whoa," Evan lifted his hand out to stop you before you descended to the ground. His lips pursed and he chuckled lightly, "I ain't no tyrant. You don't gotta do that 'round' 'ere."

"But..." You hesitantly straighten back to your feet, still feeling the great need to express some type of gratitude for them.

"Look darlin'," Evan took a couple steps toward you, a small, reassuring smile graced upon his handsome face, "We ain't demandin' your gratitude. We jus' wanna help. So... No more gettin' to your knees or anything like that, m'k?"

With dreaded humiliation and even greater gratitude lurking inside, you nod your head and say, "Thank you."

"This way, my dear," Herman lifted his hand out in the direction of the Saloon doors.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod your head and follow Herman and Evan in through the old fashioned swinging doors. That earlier edge came creeping back as you anticipated a heavy room filled with lurking eyes of malice or judgment, the fear threatening to show up as a meek tremble in your limbs. To your shock though, the tables that had been very occupied with various killers were now mostly clear. The least you could see was the Clown, Hillbilly, Wraith and Caleb sitting together in the furthest table from the bar.

"I hope this is alright for ya, darlin'," Evan walked over to the table by the bar and effortlessly pulled out a chair for you.

You move over to the presented chair, heart thumping in admiration towards the strong, polite, handsome man. Was he single? You point your glistening eyes up at him and thank him softly, "This is alright, thank you. But... Was everyone else alright with it too?" You didn't want to be an annoyance or burden to anyone.

"'Ehh, they were a little fussy but they'll live," Evan shrugged in dismissal as he sat down in the spot beside you, "Besides, they could use some fresh air. Lord knows we spend too much time in this desert dump."

"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket," Frank huffed as he plopped down in the chair to your right, "This place is the bomb for hanging out, don't you agree?"

As Freddy, Herman and Michael sat down while Bubba went off to join the table at the back, you nervously bite your lip and look to the Legion member. Hands going to rest on your stiff, pressed together thighs, you grip your handkerchief tightly, muscles clenching beneath your skin. "It is really beautiful," You say more to appease him but for the most part it was true as you think about how marvelous the star streaked sky and the luminous sunrise was in the horizon.

"Case closed," Frank smirked at Evan who rolled his eyes in response.

"Alright everyone," Spoke Herman who took a seat beside his best friend, his arms coming up to rest on the table as he waited to feel everyone's eyes lock on him, "It has been quite the experience attempting to get to this moment, but now that we are finally here I'm content to say that we can follow through with our interrogation."

Unease swelled in your throat as Herman pinpointed you with his sharp, glowing white eyes, the weight of everyone else's attention following seconds later. You felt small and vulnerable sitting at a table filled with numerous powerful, frightening killers who had more than the capability of ganging up and harming you. Whether you wanted to or not, your body gently shook, your cheeks glowed dark pink and your eyes kept watery. Never before had you felt so pressured and so small, even when you were cornered by David.

"(y/n) my dear," Herman asked calmly, "All of us have experienced a rather significant deal of bullying concerning you. Is there possibly anything you can tell us about why you believe they might be treating you this way?"

You look at him and squeeze your handkerchief tight in your clammy palms, head tilting down as you try to recollect any good reasons for the survivors to be treating you the way they were. "I... I don't know," You say hesitantly and look around the table before gazing back at the Doctor, "Everything was fine when I first got here but then they just... I don't know, they changed."

"How do you mean by that?" Evan asked, his body turned more towards you. Any closer and his knee would brush yours.

You look at him and bite your cheek harder than you intended, wincing lightly at the sting, "They were nice to me at first but... after the second week... they started to bully me."

Evan looked to his best friend and pursed his lips, "What'a ya thinkin', Doc?"

"Hmm, I'm not quite sure," Herman rubbed his chin, "Considering that they were kind in the beginning means that it must have taken something drastic to inspire such a change of heart."

"Could be jealousy," Freddy suddenly inquired.

Herman rose his brows in curiosity, "And why do you think that, Mr. Krueger?"

Freddy made a snarky face as if he expected the larger man to already know. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand up in your direction and stated bluntly, "She's hot."

Your eyes widened like saucers and your heart jumped into your throat, body jerking lightly.

"Yes, I suppose beauty could be a major factor," Herman agreed and looked back at you, "(y/n), did anyone on your team have a particular interest in you?"

You were so flustered by the fact that Herman just upright agreed with Freddy much like everyone else you almost didn't hear the question. Blinking numerously, you cleared your throat and sucked in a deep breath, eyes going to the table as you tried to remember. "Well..." You think back to the beginning when everything was alright at the time, "There was this one man who was always really nice to me. He... He was kind of dirty and... he really liked to flirt?"

"Do you remember his name by any chance?" Herman asked.

You shake your head but say quickly after one memory stuck out more than most, "He had a fake hand."

"Ugh, she's talking about Ash," Frank groaned in disgust.

"Who's gonna be jealous because of that fat ass?" Freddy barked and made a similar face as Frank.

You blink at them all and ask timidly, "You don't like Ash?"

"Oh, we fucking hate that dude," Frank said with passion, "He thinks he's so cool but he's just a fucking ass hole."

"Clever though," Herman seemed to be lost in a scientific trance as he continued to stare at you while asking, "Did his attitude towards you ever change?"

"I don't know," You shrug and roll your eyes, voice soft and hesitant as you sadly admit, "I never really had that many trials with him... And I always run away from camp..."

"I see," Herman released a small huff as he tried thinking about who could be jealous of you.

"But Ash flirts with all the ladies," Evan pointed out, "Whatever friendship he had with her was obviously breif."

"Breif because she was chased away though?" Herman asked suspiciously.

"I..." You squeeze your eyes shut, hands balling into fists on your lap as you say, "I... I Have an idea, but... It never made any sense to me so I just... never thought about it."

"What is it?" Frank asked, scooting his chair closer to you so that he could hear your low, soft voice.

Evan engaged your silence with his calm, comforting voice, "Tell us, darlin'. Don't be afraid."

You bite your lip and crack open your eyes, "It was right before the bullying began... It was... David proposed that I- that we..." You cover your face as humiliation and shame took over your trembling body, "I said no."

Herman's eyes turned orange instantly. Evan had to place a hand on his shoulder to keep him compliant. He knew David had something to do with this. You were very disheveled to admit that awful news, but it was an important factor you didn't want to keep ignoring. While Ash had been weirdly perverted, he was funny and kind and never pressured you. David though. David scared you, made you uncomfortable and vulnerable.

"I talked to Dwight a while back and he said Ace was the new leader," Evan stated out loud before looking to his best friend, "And you said him and David were there the day ya found her. You think that's a vengeance sorta' deal or somethin'?"

"Well..." Herman's chest lowered significantly as he gazed at the table, his eyes still dark orange with barely contained fury, "It would be rather accurate if they were loyal to one another. With what knowledge we have gathered so far, not particularly every survivor has bullied (y/n)."

"That's what we gotta figure out next," Evan gave you a brief stare with his tired, calm eyes, "Each time it happened, was it the same survivors?"

You nervously gaze at the Doctor and wonder why he looked so... angry. His eyes were glowing a deep orange that made you fear that you were the cause of. He had been the one to experience the horrible bathroom scheme at Lérys. Not a favorable encounter. The fact that he knew what you looked like naked had always been humiliating and yet somehow made you more comfortable around him considering he hadn't judged nor taken advantage of you. That said, you had only assumed it was an act of genuine care. You didn't want to think he was mad at you now, but you were a doubtful person at heart and often had trouble thinking positive. 

"Yeah..." You say to Evan and whisper softly, "And whoever was with David or Ace."

"So it's that Irish ass's fault?" Frank sneered in both repulsion and anger.

"He's actually English, Mr. Morrison," Herman spoke fluidly and intersected his fingers, his eyes turning lemon yellow, "And yes, it appears that he is the main cause of this torment."

"Let's not jump to conclusions just yet," Evan spoke and gave everyone a thorough look, "I don't gotta good feelin' 'bout this Ace guy. For all we know he could be the one behind all'a this."

"Was he the leader when you first showed up here?" Frank asked.

Feeling faintly relieved that the Doctor seemed to be calming down, you think back to when you first arrived in this hell loop. Dwight had been the first to introduce you to everyone and help show you around. Things seemed pretty nice and complaint at the time. Ace had just been an ordinary survivor like everyone else. You shake your head and mumble softly, "No... I thought Dwight was."

Evan turned his head down for a moment, his gaze blistering the table top as his finger nails drew into the flaking, hard wood. "And he ever bully ya?" He asked in a low mumble.

You shake your head, "No, but..."

"What?" Evan asked in a somewhat serious tone, his ocean blue eyes widened brightly at you.

"He..." You gulp at his gaze and fumble with your handkerchief, "When I tried asking him for help... he refused."

"Strange," The Doctor murmured, "Dwight was hardly the type not to step in and provide aid... Do you believe Ace taking control has something to do with all this?"

"I do," Evan breathed, his voice low and destructive with hatred, "I think he's causin' all sorts'a hell."

"What do you think we could do to stop it?" Herman asked more to himself than anything.

"Why not kick their asses?" Frank offered leisurely, "I mean in my opinion, they kinda deserve it...."

"Violence will only make things worse," Herman explained, "We need to be smart about this... (y/n)."

You hum lightly as you lock eyes with Herman, mind tangled in the many different and confusing directions this whole conversation was going. He smiled at you. A smile that was both comforting and conflicting at the same time.

"I understand that you have been avoiding trails lately," He said in a knowing tone that made you lower your head like a guilty child, "And we all understand why, however, now is the time to start trying again. We will help you. You do not have to be afraid. All of us are aware of what you are going through and are willing to accommodate to your needs."

"Yeah," Frank hit his fist lightly on the table in agreement, "Those ass holes even think about messing with you just say the word and I'm there to fuck em with a hook."

You bit your lip in uncertainty. After nearly a whole month of avoiding literally everyone, you were sure that the survivors had grown even more hatred towards you. Who knew how they would act when you start to magically pop up with the killers on your side. Even though you imagined that everyone would still play fair, you still weren't too sure about how the whole outcome would be like. You were pretty upset with yourself for being such a coward and hiding all the time, not doing anything. Selfish. In all honesty, you needed to start participating for the better behalf of your team members and the killers.

"Ok," You agree in a small voice, fear raking your insides with doubt. You didn't want to be bullied anymore. You were tired of it. It hurt too much. But... "Do... Will you really help me if they... if they start bullying me again?"

All at once everyone spoke up to say "yes" in their own way. Even Michael was nodding his head. You look at them all, cheeks still a light pink as you thought about how crazy this entire experience was. Frankly you weren't sure it was even real. Maybe it was all a dream. A figment of your imagination. You close your eyes and take in a deep breath.

"Feel free to come 'ere any time ya like," Evan said and gestured in the direction of the exit gates, "If we ain't here then we're at Haddonfield."

"We will also send you an escort for when you regenerate after trials," Herman made a reassuring face, "There's a large possibility you may not be comfortable with who it is, but we assure you he is well suited for the task and will protect you."

You nod your head the whole time, appreciation blooming to life so strongly inside your heart it hurt. An escort sounded nice. You wondered who it was. Hopefully not Ghostface... "Thank you all so much," You say, your voice pure with gratitude as you gaze around the table at all of them, "I don't think I can say it enough."

Little did you know that there was no need to thank them at all. 


	8. The Kitten and The Wolves

"I believe we should all discuss the basics," Herman suggested, his eyes often turning from yellow to white as he gazed at everyone at the table, "So far I've concluded that her greatest difficulty is getting off the hook."

"Yeah, what's the big deal with that?" Frank placed his elbow on the table so that he could hold his face up as he gazed at you, his expression rough from his negative input on the topic at hand.

You bit your lip nervously, shoulders tense and fingers rubbing together in your lap as you feel your cheeks burning. Hesitantly you gaze at the man beside you. Frank, was it? Among all the killers, he was the one who paid most attention to you, his blistering eyes feeling as if they were puncturing you with staples. He hardly ever looked away. You swallow, heart thudding like a shaken animal inside your chest.

"Well it ain't like we can avoid hooking her," Evan stated in dissapointed bluntness.

"Why not?" Freddy gave the leader a stupid glare, "Those bitches won't help her so why should we have to play fair when they fucking won't?"

Evan sighed and rubbed his temple with his rough, calloused fingers, "We all agreed a long time ago that we weren't gonna do favoritism no more."

"But this isn't favoritism," Frank looked over at Evan and pointed his finger down at the table to further express his point, "This is legitimately playing fair. We don't hook her- ergo- she has a chance to actually fucking do something productive and they don't get the satisfaction of being complete ass holes."

"It ain't that simple, kid," Evan had nearly his whole face compressed deep into his palm, "We can't jus' run past'r like she ain't there. We gotta do our jobs and we gotta do em right."

"Says the bitch who forced us all to play nice with four-eyes for over a year," Freddy slumped back and crossed his arms as he glared hard at the distressed leader, "For once why can't we play how we wanna play?"

"That was different, ya'll," Evan lowered his head, his voice on the verge of regret and disappointment.

You gaze timidly at the Trapper and wonder what all the fuss was about. You could understand and appreciate the fact that he wanted to play fair and avoid favoritism, but you wouldn't deny that you were curious about this 'four-eyes' survivor everyone had to be nice to. Was it someone like you? No, Evan said it was different. Maybe it was more personal? He was the leader therefore his orders need be obeyed. Whatever the past ordeal was, he didn't particularly seem very bright about the mention of it.

"I have an idea," Herman's eyes beamed white as he looked at you, "(y/n), do you by any chance know a survivor by the name of Adam Francis?"

You feel relieved that the tenant, argumentative conversation was interrupted by the idealism of the Doctor. You look at him and think for a moment before softly asking, "Is he the one who's a teacher?"

"Yes he is," Herman smiled, "I'd imagine he is one of the more decent survivors, I hope?"

You nod your head. Like Ash, you didn't get to have a lot of trials with Adam, but from what you remember he was very kind and patient. He even taught you some important lessons when it came down to the generators.

"Whenever you get a chance, you should ask him for permission to use his power tactic," Herman inquired with a charming smirk.

"Good idea, Doc," Evan rose his brows at his friend, impressed by his supportive ideas. Herman winked at him and Evan instantly felt himself throb with admiration. He was lucky to have a friend who always put his own strain into consideration.

As the tensity died down rather quickly as everyone relaxed in reference to the idea, you blink cluelessly and ask, "What tactic does he use?"

"It's like a reward for unhooking people. You gotta do it safely but if you succeed you can get yourself off the hook without the help of any of those other bastards," Frank explained casually, his voice lazy and careless, yet his eyes held all the interest in the world as the gazed at you.

Timidly looking at him, you feel yourself falling victim to a great many pairs of eyes, your cheeks dusty pink. You wished you could put your handkerchief back on but apart of you felt as though that would be impolite. "I... I would really like to start working again... I feel bad for avoiding everyone so much," You admit, gazing down at your lap, "Maybe this way I can atone..."

"If they even let you," Freddy embarked with a glare that was implicated towards the thought of the other survivors, "We all know these bitches aren't gonna make this shit easy."

"Yes, but at least we have one complication under control," Herman stated optimistically, "Now we must discuss the more... Major ordeals."

They must be talking about the physical attacks. You bow your head in humiliation and fret, heart cold and insecure inside your throbbing chest. You didn't understand why the survivors were bullying you and you doubt that the killers had any conclusions either. There was no denying that nearly everyone at this table had witnessed a great deal of your torment. Who knows what judgements they held inside their heads. You whimpered softly, arms aching to hug yourself protectively.

"Hey, hey baby girl, don't look so upset," You wince when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, and hesitantly turn your head in the Legion's direction. He was looking at you in a very comforting way, his eyes slanted and smile gentle. "Like I said, we're gonna get to the bottom of this shit. Don't you worry."

The sound of his reassuring voice helped to make your shoulders relax and back laxen. While the shame, embarrassment and fear still lingered, you were oddly touched by their somewhat rowdy reassurances. It also made you happy in a way. No one had ever gone this far to help you, not even verbally. It was nice to have the care. You just didn't want to get too comfortable in case this was all one big giant scheme or they changed their minds.

Lips pulling into a small, meek smile, you nod at the Legion member and whisper, "Thank you."

"(y/n)," Herman spoke just as gently as Frank had, and it made you slightly more at ease as you gaze at him, heart twitching at the fact that Frank hadn't let go of your shoulder yet, "That day at Léry's... Did they all force you into that situation?"

Cheeks rose red with humiliation and sadness, you bow your head and bite your lip, fingers tightening into fists on your lap as you stiffly nod your head. It was even worse considering that all the other killers didn't seem particularly alarmed or curious about the manner which meant that they most likely already knew what happened. Oh, how you wanted to just melt away into a puddle of embarrassment.

Herman nodded and hummed, his fingers rubbing at his chin, "Most other encounters I've heard have lacked at least two of those three. You were unfortunate to have been paired with them that day... However, there is possibly a way we can help you defend yourself."

"Really?" You mumbled, twitching every so often when the hand on your shoulder flexed lightly in a gentle squeeze.

Herman smiled, "Yes my dear. Whilst we will always try to be there if ever trouble should arise, I would like you to be prepared in case you are in a situation that calls for self defense."

Your eyes widened in near disbelief, heart nearly jumping into your throat, "Self defense?"

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Frank released your shoulder and cracked his knuckles in such a talented way that made you blink in surprise, "We can teach her how to defend herself so if those idiots ever try to touch her behind our backs, she can sock em in the nuts all by herself. It'll be awesome just like when I taught Julie how to do it."

"Easy there, kid," Evan chuckled lightly and raised his hand, "Self defense takes a lot'a practice 'round here, and our doll is still pretty new. We gotta be patient."

"And patient we will be," Herman scooted his chair back and stood from the table, "(y/n), would you be up for some practice?"

Feeling like a targeted deer, you flash your panicked eyes at the Doctor and feel your tiny speck of confidence disappear. "You mean self defense... Against you guys?" You whimpered and bring your hands to your chest in fear.

Such a thought was obtrusive and unreal. These were killers who were blessed with phenomenal powers and abilities that were sure to pummel your fragile form to pieces should you even think about tapping them in defense. It was like putting a kitten without claws up against a pack of rabid, wild animals. You didn't stand a chance. They could easily overpower you and bend you to their forceful wills. And if you did manage to defend yourself, who knows how slippery their tempers could get. They might get frustrated and decide to really hurt you.

"I-I can't, I-couldn't..." You whimpered, so afraid and shaken by the images of torment your mind generated as you thought about what practice with each killer could turn into. Not a pretty image. You shake your head and release a trembling sigh.

Evan looked to his over-enthusiastic friend and stood with him, saying in a simple, mollified voice, "How 'bout we introduce her to some of the others first? I mean she jus' got 'ere and I bet all this talk's got'r mixed up."

"Right," The Doctor nodded quickly. His eyes, which had turned green for some nefarious reason, bloomed pink and turned to gaze at your timid figure, "Now that we have a decently structured plan laid out, I suppose we can take a break. Would you like that, dear?"

Slowly you nod your head, hoping that you didn't anger anyone by agreeing to postpone the practice situation. As you gazed around the table, you were mostly relieved that everyone seemed to be completely content with a break, their bodies relaxed and calm. You let yourself relax as well although you were still minimally tense, a small breath releasing from between your once trembling lips.

"Care to meet any of the others or ya need some time?" Evan asked, his arms crossed in a manner of superiority, his deep, sunken, blue eyes staring down at you in simple curiosity.

You take in his question and gaze in the direction of the full table at the back of the Saloon. The only two you knew so far were Caleb and Bubba. They were sitting quietly, minding their own business. Whilst Bubba seemed to be engaged in some sort of sign language conversation with the Wraith and Hillbilly, Caleb looked to be playing cards with the Clown. Very original for a group of ruthless killers. It was almost comforting to see them act so normally, you smile.

"I... I would like to meet them i-if that's okay?" You say timidly, nodding your head at the Trapper.

Evan kinked an eyebrow at your rather intense nervousness. He supposed there wasn't much to truly have to understand. Even though he hadn't witnessed it yet, you had been submerged into a great deal of traumatic bullying. Nervousness and fear were obvious traits to be expected. He offered a comforting smile and shrugged in the direction of the back table, "Come with me, darlin'."

You feel your body attempting to tremble again as you carefully scoot your chair back and stand up, feeling odd for being the only one joining Evan as the Doctor sat back in his seat. Did they have something to discuss? You wonder while hesitantly shying away from the table, nodding at those who smiled at you kindly. You'd say thank you but the words solidified as a bothersome lump in your throat causing you to fret speaking at all less you stutter or panic. Although they were all being nice, you were still worried about the chances it all could change.

You intended to follow a ways behind the Trapper, but he didn't seem as on board with the gesture as he waited for you to join his side. Feeling like the defenseless kitten again, you join his side and give him a small glance while you fumble with your handkerchief.

"You feelin' alright, darlin'?" Evan asked, and there was something welcoming about his tone, something friendly and reassuring. It was as if he had known you forever or had already accepted you as a devoted friend, his voice was so simple and calm.

You feel yourself oddly contribute to his display of care, your heart enlightened by his kind voice, "Yeah... I'm sorry if I seem so... scared."

"It's alright, darlin'. Ain't no one here's gonna hurt ya," Evan said in a casually confident voice, "I won't let em."

As you neared the table, Bubba was the first to notice you. Immediately the large man stood from his seat with an excited pig squeal, and began to tred in your direction. You offer him a small smile, shoulders just the least bit tense as he reached down to gently pat them, his head lolling slightly in what you assumed was a questioning manner. "Hello again Bubba... are you having fun with your friends?" You asked in your soft voice.

Bubba nodded and made another little squeal, his head turning in the direction of the Hillbilly and Wraith. One of his palms moved from your shoulder to your hand, tugging on it gently. Holding back from biting your lip, you look to Evan who was merely smirking in your direction, his face showing no sign of discontent. He simply shrugged his shoulder. Taking the implication, you allow Bubba to carefully drag you over to the spot between The Wraith and Hillbilly. He chittered something vague and placed your hand in Maxs unexpectedly.

You feel your face heat up and body tremble as you looked at the Hillbilly. You weren't one to judge people in the slightest, but those who killed most likely because they had been judged put you on edge. However, there seemed to be a certain amount of awe and joy in the Hillbillies almost hidden eyes as he stared up at you, mouth constantly open but curved in a way that resembled a smile. His hand was big and unsurprisingly warm, it's texture rough and leathery but gentle nonetheless. His fingers rubbed the back of your hand in a manner that was curious and soothing. Timidly you rub his large knuckles and see his eyes squint in what you wanted to assume was peacefulness. 

"That'd be Max," Caleb lowered his feet from the table and tossed his cards forward as he tilted his hat up, "An' he ain't the best at talkin' but he do seem'ta like ya."

You smile at Caleb once he leaked the information, your chest rattling with joyful emotions. Was it something to consider sad; the fact that you were so grateful for the acceptance from a bunch of frightening, bodily mutated, merciless killers? Maybe in some context. Right now though you were just relieved that there were people who actually seemed to like you and had little to no problem showing it. Granted they were hostile in trials but here... Here they were different. Their humanity showed like a dim forest fire off in the distance, following the trail that carried your cold, lonely, bleeding tracks.

"Hi Max," You say softly, your heart trembling in hope as you gaze at his outfit, "I like your hat."

At first you felt silly and futile for making the compliment but after it was said, Max closed his eyes and brought up his other hand to pat the one of yours he was already holding. He seemed happy, you think, especially the sound of the cute growl he made. Behind you Bubba squealed and clapped his hands a few times before leaning in to pat Max on the shoulder. Friendship made. 

Max's warm hands left yours, falling back into his lap. Bubba nodded in fulfillment before gesturing over to the Wraith who appeared to be slightly more hesitant about holding your hand. "That's Philip... He's a tad bit shy but'll warm up to ya eventually." 

"That's alright," You mumble with a smile of recognition, both your hands meeting with a small twitch of hesitancy, "I'm shy too."

Philip lifted his head to look at you, his glowing eyes slanted in a way of shock. It was hard to read his facial expressions considering the fact that parts of his skin appeared to be burnt and rugged. You weren't sure how to tell, but that didn't stop the parting of his lips from being absolutely adorable. You blush, the tips of your fingers barely touching as you timidly add, "It's nice to meet you Philip."

Like a few others, you didn't expect much of a reaction, and ended up fairly shocked when you heard an equally timid, "Thank you... You too."

Philip's hand slipped from yours leaving you surprised but happy that he was content meeting you. A mild accomplishment you suppose as you smile up at Bubba who patted your back excitedly. Was he really that happy introducing you to new people? Or was he merely excited that they were actually accepting you?

Evan exchanged glances with Caleb who was no doubt impressed by how jovial everyone seemed to be with you. Like Evan, he hadn't gotten to witness this bullying in person, and both Max and Philip had nodded their heads in admittance that they themselves had seen it before. Not many of the killers were particularly fond of any of the survivors in general, but you were different in ways that made them content.

"And this here is Jeffrey," Evan placed a hand on the older man's shoulder and roughly shook him, "Looks mean but is actually a big ol' softly."

"What's up, kid?" Jeffrey grumbled in a asthmatic voice, sounding tiresome and grumpy but his face showed a fine amount of interest pointed toward you.

"Hi there," You say softly, holding Bubba's strong, tight hand as he led you around the table. If there was one thing you were quickly learning about Bubba, it's that close proximity and personal space were not two things that ideally had to matter. He enjoyed being close to others and even liked putting others close together himself. Especially the introductions; he absolutely loved it.

While your mind was still very much overwhelmed, you were slowly beginning to settle down into this absurdly inviting reality. "How's the weather treating you today?" Jeffrey coughed lightly before letting Bubba place your hand into his gloved one.

"Umm... Good?" You say as Jeffrey shook your hand gently before letting it go a couple seconds later, but not before giving your nimble fingers a soft rub. You had to admit this man was one of the most frightening killers you had seen, but upon closer inspection he didn't seem all that intimidating. Just a lazy, grumpy, old softy like Evan said. "And you?"

"Fine I guess," Jeffrey leaned back and looked up at Evan with his demonic brown eyes, "So what's the deal, Mac? We gonna throw tonic at the other survivors or what?"

"Not exactly," Evan moved to the empty spot where Bubba had been sitting, "Apparently we're gonna try and bust out the survivors if we seem em bullying our doll here. So no hooking her until yuv' hooked someone else, alright?"

"Got it, boss," Jeffrey waved his hand in dismissal before looking at you, "Got any idea why they'd wanna hurt you, sweet cheeks, or are they just being jerks?"

"I... I don't know," You murmur quietly, fingers tapping together nervously, "They were nice in the beginning but... after while... they just started to treat me badly."

You wince and gasp in surprise whenever Bubba suddenly wrapped an arm around you and tugged you close to his chest. He made an alarmed squeal and gently rubbed the back of your head again. Blushing, you somewhat awkwardly hug him back, enjoying the comforting feeling of his hands patting and stroking your sensitive back.

"Yeah, expect a lot of that from him," Jeffrey grumbled and rolled his eyes, "Don't worry, Mac, I get the picture."

Bubba let you go slightly so that he could nod his head in agreement. Evan smiled at you as you timidly shuffle in Bubba's hold. It had been a long time since they had a survivor lounging around about their camp, especially one that could make the mood rise this high. Evan had never seen everyone quite so conspicuous and excited before. And while you weren't entirely comfortable around them yet, you were still willing enough to patiently enjoy meeting everyone with a level of kindness that outmatched any of the other survivors.

Just as Evan was about to suggest introducing you to Sally and the others, two small, cloudy grey portals appeared in the Saloon. Everyone turned their heads to watch as the Entity claws slowly clambered out to pull your soul and Maxs into its dark abyss in preparation for another trial. You flashed Evan a worried look before it happened, your body frozen and unable to move. You were scared. You didn't want to be bullied. However, his calm, reassuring smile relieved you of some pressure, also the fact that you were going with Max.

Maybe there was a possibility things could turn out for the better?


	9. Differences Between Grips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS** for graphic violence starting up from this chapter forward.

There was no way to nullify the Entity. It's rules and laws were as unpredictable as the weather above the greatest ocean. At the very least survivors had to do three trials a day with the most being six depending on their behavior and success. No one knew quite frankly what it was that caused the Entity to indiscriminate it's own seemingly profound rules. Whether it was the success of a person that drove it's need for more flavor of the victory they were accomplishing, or if it was the failure that fueled its desire for mannerism build that twisted it's daily chain of rules, but there was one thing that was always for certain. Unless you had your six trials done, always be on alert and don't get too comfortable for the Entity always arrives when you least expect it.

This was your third trial today. Usually the times when you were summoned happened at least a few hours after the last time. Considering the fact that you actually won albeit unfairly with the hatch given to you open-handedly, you were sure to face more trials more often. The thought was negatively solidifying your hope. Yes, you were ready to start trying again, but nothing could totally prepare you for whatever nightmarish pranks were to come, and your overwhelming imagination was horrifying you with endless ideas of torment.

Listening to the sinister claws of the Entity disappearing into the blank void of fake sky after placing your souls, you blink and look around. It was the MacMillan Estate. You bow your head, handkerchief tied tightly around your face to cover your mouth as you register the fine chill lingering in the peaceful wind. Scanning the perimeter, you notice Claudette slowly wandering over to an unoccupied generator while William lurked on towards the rickety, old killer shack. Relief and contentment immediately bombarded your conscience. At least these were more sensible team members.

Sending the command to your legs, you quietly maneuver over to the generator Claudette was working on and awkwardly crouch down to grab a hand full of delicate, broken wires to start lacing together. Left over guilt from your frequent absence and lack of sportsmanship nagged viciously on you causing sweat to build up underneath your heavy sweater. A part of you thought that engaging in conversation might help to settle your nerves of unease, but the tight knot of awkwardness hardened your will to do so.

Claudette didn't seem to be too invested in your presence as her focus stayed interlocked on the greasy internals of the generator. You held back from clearing an uninvited itch at the middle of your throat and continue to tap and lace the wires together. Sparks danced across your vision and through your tingling finger tips, their pricks gentle but oddly satisfying in the ways of success. It wasn't long before you were finished with the wires that Claudette moved to the end cap and pulled a few levers downward that the generator blasted to life with an exhilarated roar.

Feeling happy for the small bit of production, you follow her to an area behind the killer shack where William had another generator a quarter of the way finished. "Do you know who it is?" You hear the woman in front of you ask softly.

"No idea," William said gruffly, pausing his work to take one long, last drag of his distressed cigarette before flicking it off to the side.

Claudette nodded, not very put off by the unsurprising answer. She took the last remaining spot to work on the generator causing you to stand awkwardly in front of them for a few moments before jerking in startlment when you heard a loud yet deep scream coming from the background. Senses gifted from the Entity provided you with knowledge of where the hook was, and gifted knowledge from old memories told you who the unfortunate dweller was... Jeff.

"Well?" William's straightforward, authority voice caused you to nearly jump in fright, "What's keepin' ya?"

Quickly you nod at him in confirmation before running off in the opposite direction of the killer shack. Fear and misfortune ate on you like pests, and you feel as though you may over panic from the crawling intuition. The MacMillan Estate was drafty and quiet causing you to crouch low to the ground whenever loud, rugged footsteps filled your eardrums. Holding tight onto a crate, you watch timidly as Max trotted by quickly, straight in the direction you had just ventured. A part of you ached for him to stay near as you didn't want to be left alone with Jeff, but this was a trial, and sadly, Jeff was your team member.

After the coast was clear, you ran over to the hook Jeff was hanging on and bite your lip in severe hesitation. His head lifted when he saw your small, fragile body approaching, his lips tugging into a pained smirk. "So its you, huh?" He said, his voice laced with malice and mischievous satisfaction towards your long since witnessed presence.

"Been a while," You hear him mumble in that chilling tone, your arms shaking far more noticeably than you would have liked as you reluctantly reach up to grab his arms. It took everything you had not to make an over exaggerated huff from the force of the strain lifting him up put on you.

The sound of large feet meeting hard with the dirt below did no such thing as help to muffle the sound of the giant, metal hook falling brisk and heavy just a few feet behind the wounded man. Whatever injuries he had sustained from Max were gone, magically and fairly erased as most wounds usually were once a person was safely pulled from a hook. All that he was left with was the signature hook puncture in his shoulder and back. If you touched him, your pockets would immediately fill with all the gauze you required to heal him.

But such graciousness wasn't on your agenda.

The moment you were able, you quickly turned around and tried to make a beeline in the direction of the building, but a big, strong hand came out and caught hold of your wrist. You gasped, body jerking back as you were roughly tugged closer to the large man. His hands were unforgiving as they squeezed your wrists causing tears to fill your eyes as fear rattled your bones. Not again... You whimpered and attempted to break free from his demanding grasp, yet all it did was fuel his hunger to squeeze harder.

"Please," You whispered pleadingly as he tugged you right against his thick chest. Your breathing was becoming irregular and frantic, your heart beat could be felt in your ears and your limbs were shaking worse than branches in fall. His own gruff breath washed over you, making you grimace lightly in repulsion.

"And where have you been?" Jeff pinned you against him, his other hand roughly digging into your side as he kept you held down, "We've been getting kinda lonely, you know?

"Please..." Your voice was shaky as you gaze away, chest quivering with bone freezing fear, "Leave me alone..."

"Aww, that's kinda rude don't you think?" Despite being wounded, Jeff still had enough stamina to keep his thorough hold on you as he turned you around and forced you in the direction of the building, "Its been a while since the last time. How about we have a little fun?"

"No..." You barely manage to whisper, voice fragile and breaking as the thin armor of confidence surrounding your heart shattered and was soon replaced by nothing other than fear, doubt and misery. Why did it have to come to this? 

After forcing you into the building, Jeff threw you against the edge of the wall where broken glass lay scattered and anonymous. You cry out as your hand met the surface of the sparkling window seal. Feeling as though a hundred tiny bites, stings and needle piercings were ravaging your palm and fingers, you hiss and whimper loudly in pain, your other hand holding your wrist tightly in hopes to numb the intense sting from the puncturing glass. 

Fear and pain battled for dominance inside the front of your head as you began to frantically scrape your glass infused hand on your jeans, desperate to lessen the intense pain. Thus being so occupied with the glass, you ended up gasping in alarm when Jeff stood directly before you, his hulking presence an engulfing shadow against your small, defenseless frame. You cringe in horror at the expression he wore. Unlike others who relished your pain and suffering and had no problems showing it, Jeff just looked flat out angry. His brows were slanted in such a way that screamed out in hatred and despise. 

It was one of the scariest faces you had ever seen, and that even went for the killers. 

Unable to contradict or question anything, you barely had time to register the large, powerful fist raising up high in the air before it was connecting with your lower jaw. Teeth slamming together with a harsh clatter, you choked out a sickening croak of surprised agony, brain rattled inside your fractured skull as nothing but hot, liquid pain severely flooded your body. The force of his punch sent your head flying back against the dirty window, shattering it immediately. Glass rained down onto your body, decorating your vastly reddening clothes as your head lolled dumbly through the shattered window. 

Pieces of hair ripping off, ears sliced, neck scraped and skull fractured, you gargle a noise of clueless pain before your legs gave out and you slowly fell to the glass sprinkled ground. You couldn't register anything anymore. It was all dark and confusing nothingness as you lay there abandoned and desecrated. 

On the other side of the realm, Max was able to sacrifice William with Claudette next on the list for seconds when he heard your shout of pain. Forgetting the science lady, he quickly rushed back in the direction of the building where the Entity's whisper was strongest. He remembered what Evan told them, but he had gotten too distracted to even think twice about Jeff. And as he entered the building, he grew completely empty by what he saw. 

Your body, barely alive and bleeding slowly from a great many cuts on your skin, lay broken in a cold pool of dirty glass. Max almost couldn't believe what he was seeing right now as he slowly approached you. He knew the others had quite often complained and talked about you and your bullying issue, but he hadn't anticipated that it would be this bad. You were nice and he did like you, but now he just felt flat out guilty for not paying closer attention or taking into consideration the fact that Jeff was in this trial. Why would anyone even want to do something like this in the first place? Especially since it was their own team member. 

Feeling guilty and remorseful, Max sat down his weapons where no one could reach them and bent down to carefully scoop you up into his arms. The glass pricked but did not phase him as he carried your quiet, limp frame outside of the building near a working generator. Hooking you wouldn't get rid of the abnormal wounds. Nothing could help with those. Max gently laid you down on the ground and quickly set back to work hooking Claudette and happily taking his time executing Jeff. With only three generators complete and two absent members, it didn't take too long to reach his goal. 

Hatch location in mind, Max scared away the crows pecking the ground around you and bent down to gather you back into his crooked arms. He knew Evan said that they needed to play fair, but he simply felt too bad to just leave you for dead or let you waste away on a hook. It was honestly his fault that you were even in this doubtlessly painful situation because of his lack of commitment. He should have done better at making sure no one touched you. Giving you the hatch now was the least he could do. 

So with the magical portal open and for the taking, Max carefully sat down your body and waited patiently for the Entity to suck you into its unknown abyss. 

... 

Due to the fact that you survived, you regenerated before anyone else, your body popping up near the survivor camp spotless of any blood or glass. However, your memories screamed in remnants of terror, your body shaking immediately as you quickly head off in the direction of the "Pleite Pillars" Herman had told you about. Frightened and distorted, you try your hardest to forget the incident like all others as you fight not to break down into sobs and tears. You didn't blame Max, but you did blame yourself. Not even knowing why, you just simply found it easier to point all the fingers on yourself since you were the one getting the most hatred for no accurate reason at all. 

Nothing would ever help you to forget that horrible experience. You pull your handkerchief down to your neck as you crouch down in front of the Pleite pillars Herman spoke off. You had seen these stone walls before on your journeys into hiding. They were old, rickety and unstable, their inconvenient rubble having been tore down by bored fingers and possibly abuse. It was a miracle they were still standing in the first place, but it was the safest area the Doctor had suggested that was close enough to the survivor camp that you could reach quickly, and non-interesting enough for survivors to most likely avoid, especially when accompanied by a killer. 

Speaking of whom, it didn't take long for you to hear it. The loud, hard sound of insanely heavy metal scraping along the thick dirt and grassy ground. You shyly stand up, knuckles pressed tightly against your mouth as you gaze around, body wincing lightly at the sight of your escort. Now there was no denying that you deeply appreciated the killers' great consideration towards you, but was it truly necessary to send the Executioner as your escort?

Feeling like a feeble moth standing before a giant, lethal scorpion, you uncontrollably find yourself tense and shaken while watching the Executioner approach. Every nerve in your body screamed and begged for you to run as running seemed to be the most sensible option at the moment. But you remembered what Herman told you, and desperately you try to put your hesitant belief and trust into his confident words.

The Executioner's large silhouette disappeared as the iridescent moon's glow lit up his impeccable body. He was wearing his miraculously clean butcher outfit and strange, metal helmet. If it hadn't been for the fact that he had stopped quite a comfortable distance away from you, you probably would have ran away in irrepressible panic. The anxiety brewing in your veins was more discomposing than getting multiple, painful vaccinations. You stare at him, your lips parted in insecurity as you wait for him to make any sudden actions that would instantly put him in the threatening category. Yet all he did was stand there.

Still rattled from your terrible experience just minutes ago, you take a moment to carefully inhale and exhale before feigning your courage. With your legs as the only limbs left trembling, you slowly take a few steps closer in the Executioner's direction. "Hi..." You force yourself to softly whisper, unsure of what exactly you could say to this beast of a man. Who knew if he could even understand you. But if Herman promised that the Executioner pledged loyalty and protection, you would engage the beginning battle of trust and possible companionship.

The only reaction you received was a somewhat large head tilt as the Executioner vaguely lowered his enormous sword. Desperately hoping that he was no longer suffering from oblivious rage, you stop within ten feet of him and awkwardly tap your fingers together. Of course you didn't completely expect him to respond, but the way he had his halmet/head pointed in your direction was undoubtedly putting you on edge. Emotionally unbalanced and overwhelmed, you ended up loudly whimpering in terror when the Executioner began to walk straight toward you, his large, foreboding hand stretched out.

Instantly you feel yourself freeze. It was just a natural reaction against people you knew you could not win against. Even though running away would be a more accurate decision, you had no idea what drove you into going statue still, but you did. Perhaps it was because he had moved so fast and that his decisive powers were too great to beat and running would most likely only anger him more. It felt like a blink happened and you were gasping as he reached down and grabbed your right wrist, holding it firm within his monstrous, gloved fingers.

Shaking while remembering your experience with Jeff, you couldn't help but to feel oddly surprised that this man's grip on you was no where near as demanding or rough. It wasn't even all that firm, you noticed, timidly gazing from your captured wrist to the helmet of the Executioner. Oblivious to his expression- if he even had one- you found yourself blinking several times in confusion before feeling his fingers flex the slightest bit to give your forearm a small tug, his feet beginning to shuffle on the ground.

Understanding the silent command, you nod your head and release a trembling sigh as you joined his shuffling, feet soon beginning to straighten into a brisk walk in the direction of the killer camp. With his large hand holding your wrist, you found yourself having to walk closer by his side than what you were truly comfortable with, but the ability to complain was immobile and lost to you. He was huge, bigger than any killer you had met so far, probably the most frightening and powerful also. You bite your lip while remembering some of the naughty things you had heard survivors say about him.

Several of the survivors were inappropriate and lecherous when it came down to discussion about some of the killers. While you had been mainly uninterested in the topic, you were still able to pick up on some of the chatter. The Executioner in particular was one of the survivor jewels. You had even witnessed him getting assaulted by Meg who's hand had wandered a little bit farther south while she was carried over his shoulder once. While the Executioner himself didn't show any emotion, you couldn't help but to emphasize and wonder how he felt on the inside. Hopefully that wasn't something he had to suffer all the time... like you.

Even though being held by the forearm while being escorted wasn't totally ideal, you were growing content with it. Obviously the situation was still awkward, strange and frightening, and you had no second idea about how to ease the tension, but at least there was no pain or actual force. With someone with fingers large enough to encompass more than half your forearm, the Executioner sure knew how to be gentle. A trait you were grateful for.

Hopefully he'd continue on this way.

... 

Evan sat back against the bar while listening to the spry chatter of his team members fill up the dusty Saloon. It had been a while since he had seen everyone quite so rambunctious. Perhaps because they had a new friend to impress and talk to. There was no denying Evan deeply enjoyed seeing his team so upbeat, but he was worried about the types of dilemmas this friendship might cause between survivors and killers. Being a cause of an Era of unfair conflict was lesson enough to make him understand and believe why it would be best to avoid favoritism and strong bonding.

Even though he had attempted to lay down verbal structures about why it was so important to play fairly, Evan knew at least a few of the others were going to engage greatly in favoritism. While Herman would most likely obey him, more biased members like Frank and Freddy were greater expected to show clear as daylight signs of favoristm and would probably play unfair. It was simply how they were; Goofy, annoying rule breakers at heart.

Evan released a small sigh and shook his head. "Evan? May I speak with you for a moment?" Said a quiet voice from behind the stairs.

Un-crossing his arms, Evan recognized the soft voice immediately and he turned to adress the floating woman in the back doorway. "Oh, hey Sal," He casually greeted, smiling kindly at the Nurse, "What'a ya need?"

Sally's orangish blonde hair dangled loosely in front of her exposed, pale face. She slowly used her hand to blow the obnoxious, shoulder length curls back only for a few strands to fall back over her cheeks due to the way her head always had to hang. "Julie told us about (y/n). I just wanted to see if everything was alright around here?"

"Yup, everything's fine," Evan released a small cough while gazing around the room for a moment, "I haven't seen anyone this alive since the Demogorgan broke loose."

"It's nice to see them all so happy," Sally smiled gently while her eyes joined Evans, her attention getting caught on a particular nicely suited man sitting by Michael, "Have you told him yet?"

"Nah," Evan rubbed the back of his head in a manner of repressed guilt and nervousness, "I'd rather that stay between us, Sal. M'fraid if Doc finds out 'bout that, more brains'l be fried than popcorn at a theater." He looked to the levitating woman and placed his hands on his hips, "Jus' try and keep an ear out like ya have been and tell me if ya hear anything else, l'right?"

"I will," Sally nodded her head in easy understanding, "Is it alright if I bring Anna over to meet her when she comes back?"

"I don't mind a bit," Evan ensured before smirking with a little huff of exasperation, "Ya think it'll calm her down?"

"I'm not sure," Sally admitted, "But when Julie told us that (y/n) was finally here I almost couldn't get her to be still... I think she might have seen something as well."

"Anns' always been a hen when it comes to the kids," Evan rolled his eyes, "Surely she jus' wants'ta check up on our doll or somethin'."

"I wouldn't necessarily call her motherly but she does care," Sally grinned and tilted her head, "And you seem changed as well... Are you happy, Evan?"

Evan released an exaggerated breath and shook his head dummly. "Other than wantin' to crush my own skull, I'm l'right," He brushed his temples while staring off at the heavily occupied room, "These idiots... I swear, I ain't ever seen em so gosh damned devoted before."

"Well they're happy, Evan," Sally chuckled and gave the large man a gentle pat on the arm, "I don't think that's any good reason to wanna crush your skull."

"I suppose you're right, but still..." Evan huffed and parted his lips in distress, "We gotta lot of work on our hands, ya know..."

"I'm sure Herman and them will figure it out on their own, and who knows?" Sally pointed her light blue eyes up at the miner, "We might just gain a valuable asset to the team... I love seeing them happy."

"Yeah, I know ya do," Evan wouldn't admit that he himself deeply enjoyed seeing everyone in such a good mood. It did his heart wonders witnessing such an endearing display. He just wished that the complicated measures behind the trinket of their spiritualness wasn't so threatening. He wasn't the leader for nothing. Just because he hadn't witnessed the bullying upfront didn't mean he hadn't picked things up from the sidelines. 

"Why don't ya go ahead and get Anna and them ready before the boys decide'ta take her away for trainin' or somethin'," Evan suggested to the floating woman.

Sally smiled and nodded her head, leaning in the direction of the exit before pausing and saying assuredly, "Hang in there, Evan. You're doing wonderful."

"Thanks, Sal," Evan mumbled, appreciative of the supportive woman. It was always a blessing to have understanding friends, even ones who had to float.

Feeling curious enough to join the table with Herman and the others, Evan was soon paused by the sight of a very a shamed looking Max limping in through the front doors. Uh oh. 


	10. Of Fear and Great Desire

Evan's first plan was to try and casually walk past the table Herman and the others were sitting at to remain overlooked and non-interesting so that he may be able to get a read on what happened before they did, but of course....

"Mr. Thompson? Why the despondent expression?" Herman asked out loud as he stood from his seat and began to walk somewhat quickly in the limping man's direction, "Is everything alright? Did something go wrong?"

"Is (y/n) alright?" Frank squeezed in, blocking off Herman's path so he could be first, his fists balling at his sides in anticipation, "I swear to God, if you let those mother fuckers touch her I'll-mm....."

"L'right, l'right, everyone. Let's not overwhelm Max 'ere. I'm sure he's the last person to wanna cause any kinda' conflict," Evan politely pushed aside Herman and lifted his hand out for Max, "Come on, bud. Take a seat and try an' tell us what happened."

Herman, like Evan, strongly believed that there was no way Max could have caused any kind of conflict, but that didn't necessarily stop him from worrying. Max was a sensitive person though, and often could express glumness at the smallest things such as a close friend being pulled away for a trial or accidently bopping into someone. It gave Herman some form of confidence that whatever happened might not have been too devastating. Besides, it was worth seeing Evan get to hint off some of his compressed feelings for the limping man.

Once Max was sat down at the main table, Evan took a seat in front of him and reached back out to hold one of his hands in a manner of patience and comfort. "Take your time, Max, an' try and tell us what happened, m'k?" He said in his softly gruff voice, hinting in his sunken eyes that they weren't trying to pressure him.

Max nodded and gently squeezed Evan's hand, his eyes closing as he fought to close his lips enough to force out in a quiet croak, "Jeff..."

"Jeff? The survivor?" Evan asked and confirmed Max's disapproving nod, "He cause some sorta' trouble with our doll?"

Max nodded again and pulled a tight face of anger and disliking. Clearly he wasn't happy about the incident either. "Was it just him that caused this trouble?" Herman asked, feigning patience in his somewhat racing momentum as he stood behind his best friend.

Max looked up at the Doctor and nodded. He was mostly certain that Bill and Claudette had nothing to do with the bullying considering the fact that they were on the opposite side of the realm, but it was something that would have to be discussed further about whenever you showed back up. "Can you give us some detes?" He heard Frank ask and nodded slowly, letting go of Evan's hand.

Everyone watched as Max balled his fist and directed it at his face, implicating the gesture of punching. This was what he assumed happened at least. Then he closed his eyes and rasped out "glass" while waving his fingers in front of his face and chest. He wasn't one-hundred percent certain what happened, but at least he could give the minor details.

"He beat're?" Evan sighed and gazed at the ground in disappointment while imagining the scenario, "Probably broke a window in the process or somethin'... Doc?"

As Evan looked behind him, he saw that Herman had his back turned, his expression unknown and most likely for good reason. He thinned his lips out, seeing Frank pacing angrily near the other side of the table. Oh lord, what a mess. He closed his eyes and bowed his head in stressful composure before hauling himself to his feet. He absently patted Max on the head, ruffling his hair in a manner which meant that everything was okay before turning to address everyone else.

"Look ya'll," He said in his more authoritative voice and gazed at everyone one at a time, "We hit a rough spot, but I'm pretty sure our dolls l'right. Any moment she'll be 'ere with the big guy an' we can find out what really happened, m'k? But ya'll need'a calm down first."

"It's not fucking fair," Frank growled lowly, his arms crossed and head lowered in frustration, "No matter what we try to do, these fuckers won't give up."

"I say we go up there and teach them a lesson they'll never fucking forget," Freddy waved his glove-less fingers out in the direction of the exit as he glared heavily.

"That is an idea we all share equally, Mr. Krueger, believe you me," Herman turned around slyly, his orange eyes a burning flame of aching, pent up pressure and flaring hatred. However dissatisfied, dangerous or furious though, he still held his composure and gazed at everyone in the group, "Our leader has an agreeable point though. Best case scenario is that we wait for (y/n) and get an idea from her perspective."

Evan felt his tight chest loosen greatly, gratitude for whatever luck granted him this moment of calming reflection weighing on him like hanging boulders. He felt like he was falling to pieces on the inside. If Herman hadn't been collecting himself as well as he had been lately, he'd probably have already lost his marbles. Fortunately for him, everyone seemed to relax although fairly tense and insecurely.

"Well... Speak of the devil and'hl appear," Caleb spoke up from behind everyone and gestured with his eyes to the window that provided full view of the exit gate.

Bubba, Frank and Freddy were among the first ones to eagerly make way outside with Michael, Herman, Evan and Caleb following slowly behind. You, having walked rather fast alongside the large man, were greatly surprised and worried to see so many of the killers standing outside. What were they doing? Had they been waiting there the whole time? And why did they look so... Transfixed.

Feeling your cheeks darken, you hesitantly gaze up at the Executioner, your arm warm and secure in his grip as he continued to lead you to the spot in front of the Saloon. You had ceased trembling for the most part as realization that lack of harm was for certain, but you still weren't too sure about being escorted by the arm like this every time. Your bicep was tired from having your arm lifted so high for so long. So much for being short....

"Why the heck you holding her like that, dude?" Frank asked as he jumped down from the stairs, dust blowing out to the sides from the spot his feet professionally landed in. "She's not a hostage, you know..." 

Turning your head straight, you shake it when you feel the Executioner finally come to a stop before them all. "I-it's alright," You say far more quietly than you intended, but standing directly before a group of large killers was far more terrifying than presenting to a class of half listening students and you weren't the most vocally outgoing person... Nor the most confident.

"Are you alright, dear?" Herman asked as he walked over to the two of you, his eyes a light, calming yellow as he reached down and separated the Executioner's hand from your forearm and repositioned them.

"Y-yeah..." You say softly, cheeks stinging liquid red as Herman rearranged your fingers to where you were actively holding hands with the large, ferocious man beside you. Entity save you, you were going to faint.

"There you are," Herman smiled his charming smile and nodded in content at the Executioner, "Try this method for now on. It will make her feel less pressured, I'm sure. Or if you'd rather, you do not have to hold her at all."

Were you actually part of a lesson being taught to a lunatic killer? Like holding your hand was going to make you feel less pressured... Even though his hand was incredibly warm and gentle and huge and made you feel kind of safe... You bite your lip harshly behind your handkerchief, feeling so very, terribly overwhelmed by so many different aspects at this point.

"What do you feel most comfortable with, (y/n)?" You hear Herman ask and point your large eyes of shock in his direction.

"Oh, I..." You gaze down at your forbiddenly intersected fingers and wonder how many of the other survivors possibly fantasized about being in a similar situation with the vigorously masculine beast. You were mostly terrified, but so far the Executioner hadn't shown any indication of harm, and was supposed to be someone you could trust. It was difficult choosing what exactly was the best way to feel, and you had no way of knowing how the Executioner felt in this particular situation. So you went with a mixture of doubt, kindness and nervous fear, voice soft as you shake your head and look up at the faceless man, "W-we don't have to hold hands or anything. I'll be alright... Thank you though."

Despite being out right starving for gentle, kind contact, you didn't want to come out as too noticeably needy or spoiled, especially if the person possibly did not want to offer the contact anyway. Doubt and desperation were practical rivals inside of you, and as you hesitantly sink into this absurd, unbelievable reality, your emotions began to expand and broaden. You weren't sure how or where any of the killers' actions would lead, but you wanted to believe that it was all genuine. If the Executioner didn't mind contact, then perhaps later on you could possibly get away with holding onto his arm?

Keeping that last thought in mind, you roughly bite your lip as you feel your fingers slip apart. Like dry ice hitting hot water, you feel your empty body ache with need for gentle human contact again. Never before had you realized just how badly you truly needed it. Luckily the notion wasn't too awfully hard to be granted around here, you huff a gasp of surprise as you were pulled into a hug from the side by Bubba who squealed loudly in distress.

Face squished square against his chubby pecks, you blink several times in shock while feeling one of his hands vigorously rubbing your head while the other patted your shoulder. "What's wrong, Bubba?" You muffle in a soft voice, legs wobbly from how far he was pulling you up into his chest.

Bubba squealed quietly in distress, his face lowered drastically so that he could nuzzle and kiss the top of your head causing your entire body to burn bashfully with warm, gooey happiness. His arms moved more protectively around you and he began to massage your scalp in such a way that caused your wide eyes to flutter in surprising relaxation. Ohhhh. Where did he learn this kind of talent from?

"L'right Bub, let the poor lady breathe," Evan chuckled, watching with a smirk as Bubba made a piggish growl, his arms loosening but not letting go just yet as he let you finally separate from his soft yet suffocating chest. What a momma bear....

Once you had the capability of moving your arms, you reach up and pull your handkerchief down to your neck, body still slightly held against the large man beside you. "Hi everyone..." You say timidly and wave, head bowing at the intensity of their projected gazes.

"What'd that fucker do to you, huh?" Frank stepped in front of you and Bubba, one of his fists grinding into his palm as he said stiffly, "I'm gonna make him pay double the amount he did to you. Just you fucking watch."

Leaning more against Bubba in slight panic, you shy away and quietly ask, "Are you talking about Jeff?" How did they know about that so soon? Had Max already shown up?

"Fuck yeah," Freddy moved in beside Frank and lifted his fingers up in implication of his weapon, "Tell us what that bitch did so we can tear him a few new ass holes he'll never be able to mend."

"Easy now, Mr. Morrison... Krueger... Easy," Herman carefully pushed the two men apart, his voice calm yet firm as he announced, "(y/n) has just returned. Let us be patient on her behalf, shall we?"

Some times you could never cease to feel grave deep gratitude for the Doctor's incredible patience and peace of mind. He was definitely a person to be admired. You look at him, your eyes making contact for a moment before you had to look down in both embarrassment and uncontrollable shame. "Is Max okay?" You ask subconsciously, your fingers aching to hold Bubba's hand in a manner of security.

"Mr. Thompson is currently residing in the Saloon," Herman explained optimistically and gestured in the direction of the swinging doors, "When he arrived, however, he seemed rather... Down. Can you possibly tell us why, my dear?"

Eyes glued to the dusty ground, you barely even register the gentle pats and caresses against your arm and shoulders from the man behind you as you remember what exactly happened in your previous trial. It was absolutely devastating, humiliating an sad, and had you thinking strongly about a past topic that you had gone over with the killers. "Jeff bullied me... Max was late getting there- but it's alright. He didn't do anything wrong," You say and gave everyone in sight an assured look and nod of ease, "I-I would like to talk to him if that's alright?"

"Of course, my dear," Herman nodded and politely stood back to show you a clear path into the Saloon, "After you."

"Thank you," You timidly nod, feeling exposed, vulnerable and insecure without Bubba's presence near you anymore. Being the most gentle and physically caring of the killers', you were quickly growing used to Bubba's constant, kind contact. Hell, your body ached for it. Any contact that was nice at all was greatly appreciated compared to all the hate it constantly endured. Moments like when Frank, Herman or the Executioner touched you made you feel frightened but also invincible once you knew that you were safe and could trust them. Probably really sad when put under the consideration of others... But true to you.

Walking up the steps to the Saloon, you suddenly feel like a person of high authority when you notice how, not just the Doctor but literally everyone who was outside, had parted and was waiting for you to go inside first. And you didn't know whether to think it was out of politeness or respect, or if was mandatory, or expected-or what. You just knew it felt weird being treated in such a great manner. Once you made it to the doors, Caleb pushed them open for you causing you to blush further and whisper a small thanks before wandering inside.

Nothing much had changed. The same people were still here which made you feel, for the most part, relaxed. You waved at the table with the Clown and feel yourself smile gently at the sight of Max standing up from beside him, your heart pulsing at the sad drop of his bowed head as he fiddled nervously with his own hands. "Max?" You say softly and bravely walk over to him.

Max made a small, animalistic growl that sounded almost as nervous as he looked as he lifted his head so that your eyes could meet. Hands coming together in front of your chest, you gaze away for a moment while conjuring up your courage and looking back at his hidden eyes and saying with a small smile, "Thank you for helping me, Max. I... I know you couldn't help much with what Jeff did, b-but I really appreciate what you did for me. You're a really good friend."

Max's eyes appeared to have widened behind his deformed skin and his head drastically lifted, a growl of more joyfulness escaping his constantly open lips. You watch with a warm smile of forgiveness and acceptance as Max closed his eyes and limped toward you, his arms stretched out in a familiar implication. Were all the country men here this affectionate? You questioned absently while allowing the tall killer to gently pull you into a small hug. Oh, who cared. It felt nice. "Thank you, Max," You whisper and gently pat his back in the same motion you had seen Bubba preform several times now.

Max pulled away and nodded, his hands going to hold yours for a moment as he expressed as good of a smile as he could manage. "Y... Yes," He said awkwardly and winced as if the effort it took to speak caused him pain.

"So what exactly happened if ya don't mind my askin'?" Caleb stepped in and placed his hands on his hips, his voice far from demanding but holding a fine level of curiosity inside.

Turning around, you face the group and notice that they all looked very, very curious. Each one of them was standing still, their eyes focused directly on you. Again, you weren't very confident about presentations.... Gulping, you feel yourself tense and stiffen greatly while you bow your head and explain, "I-I went to save Jeff off the hook-"

"Whoa, whoa, that's a bad idea, sweetness," Frank said quickly and began to dramatically wave his index finger at you, "What made you think it was a good idea to save that ass hole thesaurus? You're supposed to stay away from them."

"I know, but..." You whimpered and used the backs of your knuckles to press hard against your lower face in hopes of not showing your heavy frown of fear, "William made me and I... Felt bad... I'm sorry..."

"God dammit you little shit. Now you made her feel bad," Freddy pushed Frank forward from behind and scoffed in dissatisfaction at him.

Frank scoffed back after catching his footing and turned to address his point further, "I'm just saying! If she hadn't went to save that ass hole, none of this would have happened."

"Yes, that is true," Herman spoke up and gave both Freddy and Frank an extremely stern glance once he stepped in front of them, "But this was merely her first trial after the start of this outlandish experience. We can't blame her for being so overwhelmed."

"Docs right, ya'll," Evan went to stand in between you and Max so that he could wrap his arms around both your shoulders at the same time, "Ya gotta remember, our doll is basically brand new 'ere. Best we can do is give'r our support in times like these."

Lowering your trembling hands, you feel your watery eyes flit up to the leader beside you, your heart wobbling at the feel of his touch. Once again that overwhelming security washed over you, and you felt like an actual piece of the family- if that's what you could consider these people amongst each other. It was true; you were very new and very overwhelmed about this all, but you knew that some truth stood out in Frank's words.

"Excuse me... Evan?" You say in such a soft voice that it took Max tapping on the man's chest and then pointing at you to get his attention.

"Yes darlin'?" Evan removed his arm from Max so that he could grasp you by the shoulder, your body pulled so close to his that it caused your feet and waists to brush lightly.

Holding back a shudder, you timidly fumble over your words while nervously looking at the ground, "Remember when Herman said he could teach me self defense?"

Evan's hand gently kneaded your shoulder as he nodded and said in his gruff but gentle voice, "Yeah. What of it?"

"Well I..." You wince and gaze away while admitting in great hesitancy, "I've been thinking about it and... And I would really like to try and learn how... how to defend myself... if you all don't mind, I...."

"Of course we don't mind, (y/n)" Herman placed a hand on his chest in serene indication, "Anything to help you end this treacherous torment."

"Oh finally! I can't wait to teach you how to do the head toss in the nut sack-ha! It's gonna be great," Frank laughed and made a gesture of punching someone along with a goofy noise and exaggerated face of determination.

You smile shyly at their positivity but pause in remembrance of your greatest concern. "Thank you, but..." You lean slightly away from Evan and say lightly, "I don't know how it'll work since you all are so... powerful." Powerful, dominant, aggressive, cruel and probably short tempered. "I... I'm afraid."

"My dear, we would never harm you," Herman pledged rather solemnly as he nodded his head at your disheveled form, "If anything, you will be the one harming us. And we do not mind at all as long as you are able to get the practice you require to be able to defend yourself."

You whimpered while thinking about how you truly did not want to harm anyone, especially the killers. They had helped you so much and were so kind to you. Knowing that you had caused them any intentional harm would probably bother you more than it actually bothered them. Annoyingly true. You had a big, overly sensitive heart that could crumble at just about anything. Self defense practice was something you knew would take you a while to warm up to. If anyone tried to grab you, you'd probably just tense up and freeze like you always did in hopes of not getting treated any worse than what you knew you were about to.

Evan chuckled and reached up to thoroughly ruffle your hair in a manner of fondness. "We'll work on trainin' ya in a bit, darlin'," Evan reached his arm around you and gave you a small tug, "For right now why don't ya take a seat an' finish tellin' us 'bout what happened, m'k?"

After blushing hard at his affectionate gestures, you mentally fight to calm down your trembling heart as you nod your head, throat too loaded with whimpers for you to properly speak at the moment. While turning towards the table, you feel Evan's kind presence disappear and you automatically ached for someone to show some kind of comforting contact. Yes, you were still afraid that they would harm you, but your hope was clambering high by the built up knowledge that they obviously hadn't hurt you and hopefully never would, so your desire for kind contact was beginning to show through greatly.

Not yet though.

Herman made a non-amused face at his best friend and mumbled, "We won't be able to train for forever, I'm sure you already know, of course..."

Evan raised a cocky eyebrow at the Doctor and shrugged his shoulder, smile broadening in very unbelievable innocence, "Sally an' them wanna meet'r. What else can I do, Doc? Ya really wanna tell them no?"

"You are a sharp witted wrench, I will give you that much credit, Evan," Herman squinted his eyes, silently swearing vengeance in the future.

As you sat down at a random spot at the large table, you say a small "hi" as Michael took the seat to your right. He was big. You swallow, remembering how he had nearly scared the life out of you at Autohaven Wreckers. No matter how much fear he might have caused you, he was still gentle and understanding with you. A trait you admired and appreciated greatly. Hopefully you'd get the chance to thank him more expertly in the future when you weren't so caught up in your overwhelmed, mixed up stew of emotions.

"So, baby girl, finish telling us your story," Said the familiar voice of Frank who had miraculously stolen the seat on your left.

As the rest of the killers' either sat down at the remaining spots or simply took refuge standing around nearby, you take a moment to gaze them over, your heart thudding at the fact that the Executioner was still here, quietly standing by the doorway, looking in your direction. Dang, this was too much attention. You feel yourself blush hard and wonder why you ever bothered taking down your handkerchief. You could really use it right now....

Swallowing once again, you were starting to find it hard to breathe in this suffocating reality, and you looked to Frank with tight lips that were trying desperately not to tremble. He was staring with that same intensity as before, his focus blistering you and you alone. You try not to think too strongly about it as you sadly begin to remember the incident with Jeff. So humiliating and depressing. You really never would be able to understand why they had to treat you this way. 

"A-after I saved Jeff, he-he took me inside and... And beat me," You say shakily and fought as hard as you possibly could not to cry, "Th-there was glass... I was knocked out and... All I remember was Max taking me to the hatch... I-I don't understand why he-" 

You covered your mouth as a forced sob came tumbling out and you immediately loosen your handkerchief to help cover up your flustered, aflame face, your watering eyes positively dreadful. Not now. You coo to yourself mentally. Not now. Please. You didn't think you could bear it. Not a breakdown. Not in front of them. But it was coming head strong and you were starting to sink further into your drowning pot of misfortune and dread. Your chest pounded in alarm and your head rang.

Standing up quickly, you say a fast, almost inaudible "excuse me please" and turn to make haste for the doors. Oh lord this was bad. You exhale shakily and choke back a sob at the feeling of vast tears beginning to flow down your cheeks.

"Whoa, (y/n), where you going? Don't leave!"

"(y/n) my dear, it's alright to be upset. We understand."

"Ya'll, give'r a moment if she needs it, l'right."

"Yeah, but-"

Bubba squealed in distress and worry.

Your heart stung in sadness and appreciation at their attempts trying to gain your attention, but you were too embarrassed to break down like this in front of them. You weren't one hundred percent certain they would understand and you didn't want to be an even bigger burden than what you already were. They didn't deserve this. Not the way you were now. You just needed a moment alone to sit, reflect and get it all out.

Luckily for you, there was more than one way to hit a wall. "Oof!" You gasp as you ran straight first into somebody just a little bit taller than yourself.

"Whoa, what the... fuck..."

Having been walking so quickly with your head down, you didn't think to check before going outside and your amazing luck led you face to face with a man who looked almost the same age as you with curly blonde hair and wide blue eyes. At first he could have been easily defined as cute and friendly on sight, but the visual alphabet of his outfit suggested otherwise. Gasping in horror at the realization that this particular man was indeed Ghostface, you quickly treaded back against the wall where you sank to your bottom and instantly drew your knees up to bury your face in, your fears and emotions cranked up ten times higher.

"What'd the fuck you do that for, bruh?" Asked Joey who lightly slapped Danny upside the head.

"Ow!" Danny pushed the other man's hands away and growled in frustration in defense for himself as he roughly gestured at your cowering body, "I didn't do anything, man! She just busted out crying and- and I don't know what the fucks going on, alright? But I sure the hell didn't do anything wrong."

"Both of you, please, no arguing," Sally intervened and gently placed a hand on each teenager's shoulder, "I don't think Danny did anything wrong. She's just upset about something."

Giving the other male a long, hard snooty glare, Danny crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, saying in a grumbly tone to himself, "Why'm I always the bad guy...?"

"Because you-an-idiot, that's why," Joey rapped jokingly behind the pouty man earning himself a death threat in return. 

"Hey, what're you guys doing here?" Asked a panting Frank as he and a few others came flying out. He looked around quickly, his eyes squinted as he immediately asked milliseconds after, "You know where (y/n) went by any chance?"

You were in the midst of shaking like a autumn leaf on an old branch as you stay curled up in your spot on the ground, eyes flooding with escaping streams of significant tears as soft sobs escaped your scarred lips. It was just so much. All of it. The bullying, the killers, the fear, the sadness, desire and pain. You couldn't handle it. It was becoming too much.

"(y/n)?" You tremble and blink open your eyes when you hear a very soft, gentle voice that unmistakably belonged to a female.

Wiping your eyes as curiosity beamed within your throbbing heart, you suck in a deep, raspy breath and slowly look up to see what was presumably the Nurse based on her white outfit. She had coppery blonde hair that hung down to her shoulders. Her face was more rounded yet the features she withheld appeared extremely kind and gentle like her blue eyes and small smile of pure understanding. She was kneeling down in front of you even though she was still floating a foot off the ground, one hand held behind her to keep her from falling backwards. Never had you expected you'd get to meet her, especially like this.

"Hi," She said in that incredibly kind, soft voice, her eyes squinting as she smiled like nothing was wrong, "My names Sally. Are you alright, love?"

Eyes gone wide as the horizon, you nod your head and sniffle, using your handkerchief to wipe your eyes and nose before you shyly whisper, "Hi..."

Sally grinned and lifted her hand out toward you, "I've heard a lot about you. Everyone's so happy to have you here."

They were? You feel your heavy, swollen eyes begin to laxen as you gaze down at her scarred yet soft hand and hesitantly reach out your own. Slowly your body began to relax, her presence a significantly calming influence for your overwhelmed stature. When your hands touched you twitched, fingers stiff as you feel her gently hold your palm, her warmth seeping into your frozen, lonely flesh.

"I can't explain how relieved I am that they finally managed to find you. I'm sorry that those survivors have treated you so badly, love," Sally's smile faded as she gently rubbed the back of your hand, her eyes intent as she looked at you, "But I promise we're going to do everything in our power to make it all end. You won't have to suffer ever again."

And from there Sally carefully began to lift you back to your feet. 


	11. The Hands of Friendship

Internal collapsation and mental breakage was a dull, jagged knife scraping slowly down an old chalkboard. At least that's how it felt on the inside. Ruptured trust, ripped faith, torn beliefs. It was practically shredded within you. Yet as the continuous hands of suspicious, frightening killers repeatedly picked up the pieces of your broken spirits to try and freely mend them in their own, flawed ways, you were finding yourself becoming more and more separated with your thoughts. The right and wrong, good and bad, best and worst. It was devastating but also a ethical ray of hope. The part of you that was starved to the very bone for hope and comfort was reaching out desperately for that light.

Tears of variegated emotions lightly took turns streaming down your cheeks. With a trembling hand, you pressed your handkerchief awkwardly against your mouth to try and cover your wobbling lips and help soak up the devastation of tears of weakness. The small, pale hand on your shoulder was gentle and kind. All their hands had been. The thought made you clench your eyes shut only tighter as you feel yourself tense up in a moment of overwhelming hope. Hope that battled violently with the doubt and pain that kept you from fully being able to accept it; to accept that these people could be your allies, your saviors... Your friends.

"Take all the time you need, (y/n)," Said the soft, flowing whisper of the incredibly patient, kind Nurse. You crack open your reddened eyes and give her calm, simple grey ones a distressed yet hopeful squint. "We have all the time in the world."

"Hey Frank," Joey lightly mumbled from a ways back where he, Danny, and the Legion leader himself stood quietly, observing you very awkwardly and obliviously, "What up with that girl, man, why she crying?"

"Yeah, what's her problem?" Danny pushed on Joey's chest in an attempt to shove him aside as he balled up his fist, his face more snooty than aggressive, "And to be clear, I had nothing to do with this. You all got that? Are we clear here? Yes?"

Frank crossed his arms and grimaced in deep frustration, "Oh, for the love of God, Danny, shut the fuck up." He rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh, his chest tight with anticipation he tried to beat back at seeing you in the very calming influence of Sally. You were alright. Just as long as they hadn't lost you. He inhaled, feet more than ready to go try and reassure you, "Tell you guys later..."

"Hold on just a moment, Mr. Morrison," Herman lifted his hand out to halt the young man before he could go any further in your direction, his eyes turning yellow as he gave him a firm, authoritative glance, "Let us give her this moment of placidity, shall we?"

Frank groaned immediately, the sound emitting deep from within his throat as he glared pathetically up at the larger man. "I'm just gonna go make sure she's alright," He pointed out and took a step forward.

Herman placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, his head tilted downwards and eyes shut for a moment. Frank felt a thin coat of sweat layer his skin, but he still stayed glued to his desires. "Our compassion dwells within the same pond, my son." Herman spoke in a deep, almost defeated tone as he cracked open his light blue eyes and gazed up at Sally and you, "But there are times when we must refrain from jumping in... Let (y/n) have her moment. We will address her soon enough."

"You always say stupid things that make no fucking sense, you know that?" Frank obeyed and took that step back, his arms crossing in impatience and frustration.

Herman gave him a small smile of content once he saw that Frank had most certainly understood him, "So I've been told... several times."

"How are you feeling since Evan and the others took you in?" Sally asked after guiding you towards the execution platform, her strange floating ability blowing around dust and sand and even causing some of your stray hairs to wobble.

You couldn't properly feign astonishment at the woman's incredible, unique powers as you held the entire of your broke down face within one hand, handkerchief damp and bundled between your clenched fingers. "I-I'm grateful," You whisper shakily, a small dam of tears erupting as you look up at the floating woman, finally saying what battled achingly inside of you, "I'm so grateful, but... I'm just scared that... that this isn't real, that you'll change your mind o-or worse... I don't know what to think, I-I... I..."

You sniffed harshly as you roughly dragged your palm over your throbbing forehead, your eyes catching the spots of dampness your tears created on the dry ground below. This was hard. This was so hard. Your chest was pounding with emotion. You felt like you could scream in hysteria. Everything was just too much, had always been from the very start. Surely everyone here had lost their cool some time or another. But you felt like you were going practically insane. The bullying of the survivors, the effort of avoiding them, and the support of the killers. It was way too much.

"You're supposed to be my enemy..." You say in a light whine of fear, your eyes clenching shut in forced back hesitation. You couldn't keep it in any longer. You had to get it out. "But... you're helping me, an-and I don't understand why. I'm afraid-and grateful, but... But I still just don't know... I don't understand... I'm scared... I'm so scared."

Surrounded by enemies that were trying to support you against the very people that were supposed to be on your side. It was the pixie dust sprinkling straight out of the rays of fantasy. This feeling... This doubt and confusing, senseless guilt- had it been any bad person in the real world, would you feel just as torn up inside? You might not fully comprehend or withhold full knowledge of their reputations, but there was no denying that they had definitely killed people in their own lives. How were you any different from one of their own victims? Why should they help you? What if this was all a trick? Not to top it all off, but the survivors were just as questionable, if not even more so.

Sally gave you a moment to quiet before she gently lifted her hand out in gesture to your crumbled form. "You know... There was once a time when survivors always used to come over to the killer camp. We might not have all gotten along but some of us had formed well prospering friendships," Sally suddenly explained in her soft, calm voice, her eyes shut for a moment before tilting up towards the star enthused sky, "It was nice... being able to live in such harmony when we weren't forced into trials."

"Really?" You whispered in great shock and heavy disbelief, your eyes halted of salty tears as you paused and slowly lifted your aching head. Could such a relationship be possible here?

Sally closed her eyes in what appeared to be lost happiness, her head bowing as she nodded lightly, "Yes. You'll have to ask Evan for the specific details for the most I can tell you is that some times people change. The survivors once again began to view us as spineless monsters and thus started to avoid us, and ever since then, we have tried our hardest to stay our separate ways."

Your eyes widened at her words, a small, incomprehensible gasp managing to escape your barely parted lips of pure and utter shock. It was crazy- impossible almost to think that the killers and survivors actually used to hang out together and live and prosper in a joyous manner. How had they ever managed to build such an environment? You knew how the survivors acted and let's just say that it was very, very far from being open or accepting. What exception had any of them made to cooperate as Sally said they did? You desperately ached to ask, but remembered that she mentioned something about asking Evan. You gulped and frowned lightly in sympathetic sorrow.

"But," Sally smiled warmly and gave you a kind, welcoming stare, "Just because those days of commitment are over doesn't mean that we aren't willing to create friendship with a survivor who might need our support."

Your eyes grew even more wide at that statement, and your heart felt as though it had been hit with an explosion of release. A good amount of the troublesome weight that had been horribly nagging on your body lifted like birds set free from an iron cage. You feel your eyes water in what could only be tears of relief, your head bowing as you hold your handkerchief against your chest in overwhelming gratitude. "Thank you... Thank you so much," You say in a soft, preening whine of relief. 

Sally chuckled lightly, comfortingly and said, "There is no need to thank us for friendship. Now love, tell me... Are you ready to go back to the Saloon, or do you need more time?"

You ponder her question, head tilting back to gaze at the dock of the Saloon. Ghostface and that other kid were still there, as well as Frank and Herman. While Herman seemed to be having a subtle conversation with the two newcomers, your eyes caught Franks in which immediately turned in the opposite direction, his shoulders visibly tensing as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. You smiled warmly, your heart aching in newfound peace as you remember all their kind words and actions, and you wiped your eyes in approval. 

"Just a moment please," You say and begin to use your handkerchief to wipe away the dreaded remnants of your awful breakdown, nose sniffing as you try to tame the redness of your cheeks. 

Sally hummed and tilted her head, inquiring in her soft tone, "That's a beautiful color." 

At first you had paused in uncertainty of her comment, but then gazed down at the area her eyes were pointing. Besides the times when the Doctor had randomly called you beautiful, this was the first time anyone had appropriately complimented something about you. You smile and knead the silky material of your handkerchief between your fingers, saying back timidly, "Thank you... I had a whole collection before.... Some times when I regenerate, a new one appears, even ones I've never seen before."

Sally nodded and gave you a light giggle, "The Entity has a strange way of gifting us familiar home qualities. As your skill here grows, you will be gifted outfits you probably never imagined you'd ever wear."

"Really?" You asked and wondered if these similar yet unfamiliar clothing sets were the Entity's attempts replicating your old life. You gaze at the Nurse and her beautiful yet somewhat shredded, white/rusty dress, "Is that a dress you used to wear at all?"

"Oh this?" Sally plucked an edge of the dress between the odd gravity of her fingers and answered pleasantly, "Not at all, but I do find it very appealing nonetheless."

You awed the audacity of the gift, especially since it came from the Entity, and smiled timidly, "It's very beautiful..."

"Thank you," Sally herself blushed although less noticeably and began to float beside you as you turned in the direction of the Saloon. Her eyes caught sight of your tensing shoulders as a very obnoxious laugh coming from the ever so unmistakable Danny rang out through the air. "I understand there is some standing tension between you and Danny."

"You mean Ghostface?" You gaze at her with a tight wince.

Sally nodded but did not let her calming expression fade as she gazed in the direction of the young group. "Everyone has set quite the example for him, so I'm sure you won't have anything to worry about," She tilted her head down and smirked lightly, "He also has something I think he'd like to-"

"You alright, baby girl?" Frank asked in a voice that was stern in the way of worry as he jumped down the short steps and jogged the remaining steps toward you, his hand going to grab yours.

You hold your breath but try not to let the fear overtake you as you feel his hand cup yours, the slide of his calloused palm against your wrist sending a silent shudder down your spine. He looked frighteningly serious, but you imagined it was just his somewhat unprofessionalized way of hinting concern, and feel yourself awkwardly relax. "I-I'm alright... I'm sorry for running out. That was rude-"

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Frank cut you off, his head shaking in a statement of calmness and easy going understanding as he moved his arm around your shoulder and pulled you slightly close to him, "No apologizing, alright? Just as long as you're okay that's all that matters. Now, wanna talk about it? I hope you know that that waterlog is premium gut cake the next time I see his lousy ass."

Frank had such a violent yet protective aura around him. It was frightening and a little difficult to get used to, especially his close proximity, but after your breakdown, you started to grow a certain fondness towards the notion, and for once you weren't as stiff as you normally found yourself being around them. Smiling, you point your slowly un-swelling eyes at the Legion leader and feel yourself nod, "I feel a lot better now, but thank you for offering, Frank."

"Any time, baby girl," Frank grinned, his dimples a wonderful contrast on his finely sculpted face.

"Ok," Said a firm voice that made you stiffen in unease, your body accidentally but instinctively drawing closer to the man beside you, and you looked to see the one they called 'Danny' walking briskly up towards you, "I just have to say-"

"Danny," Frank straightened his posture, his arm tightening around you in the most unnoticeable way as he pointed daggers of deadly warning at his friend, his voice serious as he said strictly, "Watch it."

Danny gave him a very non-threatened, flat stare that seemed more irritated than warned. "Yes dad," He drew out before rolling his eyes and stopping a few feet away in front of you, his light blue eyes meeting yours, "So (y/n), long time no see. Glad you're finally here. Took a while, ha... I just wanna say that I'm sorry for what I did alright? I'm. Sorry. And look- I even took some awesome pictures to prove to you that I've quit my dumb, childish shit, ok- just look."

Danny, as if already having his phone prepared, tapped the screen before coming to the side opposite of Frank to hold out his phone for you. "I-it's alright, really, I-I..." You didn't want him getting close to you in the slightest, but he was rather insistent and quickly plucked your curiosity by holding out the phone before your eyes, and what you saw had your jaw dropping.

Meg. Meg was in the first picture; Blood oozing out her mouth as she gave the camera a distressed, drunken stare, her head painfully held up by the end of her ponytail. You gasped, but had no time to say anything as Danny gave you an approving grin of hope and arrogance, "Yeah, awesome, right? And look... I got loads more."

Similar pictures of Ace, Feng, Dwight and a couple of Kate slid before your very eyes, and you were staring bewildered and in shock at the blonde haired man as he leaned in close and whispered. "And I'm supposed to delete these after I show you, but in my opinion, it's my best work yet," Danny grinned and chuckled dumbly as he scrolled through his pictures before picking a particular one holding David inside.

You felt your lips part wide at the sight of a very roughed up looking David with the inscription "im a ass" etched into the entire of his chest with blood as Danny stood behind him with a heart sign held up. Who he forced to take the picture, you did not know, but felt yourself covering your mouth in awe as a few more similar pictures of the large, downed man sped by, filling your brain with fear and disbelief. "Oh my..."

"Great right???" Danny grinned bright eyed at you, nodding eagerly in seek of approval.

On the other side of you, Frank gazed away and huffed a laugh, his knuckles tapping against his chin as he shamefully admitted in a weak mumble of laughter, "It is pretty funny..."

You were at a complete loss for words. While it was nice that Danny seemed to half-heartedly sympathize, you never imagined that he would actively go out of his way to make up for his abuse like this. It almost didn't seem fair, but then again, those were only the survivors who criticality bullied you the most... "I... I can't believe you would do something like this... F-for me," You mumble and gave him a weak gaze.

"But you like it, right?" Danny asked again, his eyes turning from eager to serious.

You bow your head and move your hand up the expanse of your face, your tone a greatly hesitating whine as you very shamefully admit, "I feel bad, but... I do like it."

Danny slammed his phone against his other palm and stomped his foot against the dusty ground in a rally of victory. He laughed and pointed at Frank, saying proudly, "Ah-ha! I told you she'd like them! And here you didn't have any faith left in me..." Danny huffed dramatically and pointed his snoot away like a sassy school girl.

"Alright, we get it, Danny," Frank rolled his head and thinned his lips stupidly at his goofy friend.

"So we all good now, cutie pie?" Danny pointed his focus at you and gestured between the space of your bodies, "Like we're friends now? You forgive me, right? Now this can all be some stupid joke left in the past and everyone will stop treating me like a bratty, little child!"

You wince although you were mostly certain that the last part was heavily implicated towards the other killers who all rolled their eyes as if being used to his obnoxious behavior. You nod your head, feeling a great amount of discomfort but being vaguely reassured by their presence and Danny's weird apology. You still couldn't believe he would do anything like that for you. It was wrong, but, you couldn't help but to feel greatly touched and very accusingly... Amused. 

"I... I forgive you," You almost force yourself to say it, but deep down you wanted to believe that this generosity might actually be real, and that belief opened your gate of expression and decision.

Danny clasped his hands together and shook them in visual gratitude at you. You watch with vividly showing shock as he pursed his lips and said, "Thank you." Then he whipped around and stated proudly- like a criminal who had rightfully proved his innocence, "You heard it guys. I'm off the hook."

"Whatever, bruh," Joey clamped his hand on Danny's shoulder and yanked him back, "Come on. Susie and them are waitin' on us."

Danny made an exacerbated growl and huffed as he fell in line beside the other man. "I said stop treating me like a kid..."

"Doesn't stop you from acting like one."

Frank chuckled and shook his head, and you could feel the loosening of his arm as he let it more of less sag over your shoulder. "Idiots," He grinned fondly causing you to smile in small joy.

"How are you feeling, dear? Better, I hope?" Herman took a step forward and tilted his head in your direction, his expression leisure and calm as usual.

You smile at him before giving a quick gaze to Sally, to Frank and then to the two men disappearing on down the dusty road. "Yes," You feel your cheeks warm in content as you look back to the electric man, "I feel a lot better. Thank you all so much."

"Like I said," Frank gave you a small side hug before letting his arm slip from your shoulder, his dimples reappearing endearingly as he shrugged in simplicity, "Any time."

"And I must ask to be sure: all is well with Mr. Johnson, correct?" Herman asked, his eyes turning from white to yellow in an instant.

You idly wonder if yellow meant that he was serious or something similar. "Everything's alright," You nod although you still intended to keep your distance. Looking over at Frank, you ask out of curiosity, "Is it alright if I ask who that other man was?"

"That was Joey. They'll be back in a few minutes. They were just leaving to get Anna and them, right?" Frank explained and then looked to Sally for full confirmation.

Sally nodded and gave you a small look of easy going concern. "Have you ever seen the Huntress?"

"The Huntress?" You whispered back to yourself and tried recalling such a name. It had been a while, but was vague and familiar and, with a little push of embarrassment, made you slowly remember the crazy, hatchet throwing woman. You had only encountered her one time, but it was far from being a forgettable experience, and you found yourself flushing with humiliation. "Oh..." 

"What's wrong?" Frank asked, his hands on his hips as he bowed slightly to try and see your lowered face. 

"I know her." You admit with great embarrassment as you rub the back of your neck, "She was there when the survivors threw me out of that building... I landed on my chest a-and couldn't move. But... She killed everyone and gave me the hatch. I... I couldn't understand what she was saying though." 

It was a very strange experience and put your brain on edge when you tried thinking about it. While it was pushy to assume that she helped you out of kindness, you weren't very sure what the true extent of her reasoning for helping you was. The event happened around the beginning. During then your agony and confusion was just getting started. The landing itself made it feel as though you cracked your ribs, and the pain had been too excruciating to properly move. Like the time when your hand got stuck in the generator; it was all just a blur of tremendous, red pain. After she killed everyone, she had drug you to the hatch all the while yelling in some foreign language you couldn't understand. The experience was, simply put, humiliating, painful, confusing and downright scary. 

"I see," Sally felt her eyes blossom in understanding, her voice becoming hinted with realization as she looked to the Doctor, "That's why she wanted to see her so badly."

Herman nodded in agreement, "She was worried."

"Worried?" You repeat in soft hesitation, your fingers rubbing together anxiously as embarrassment still sat on your shoulders from the admittance of your experience.

"Anna has had a- how do you say... Reputation when it comes to young ladies such as yourself," Herman explained with a faintly tense expression on his scarred face.

You stare up at him with wide, shunned eyes. A reputation for young ladies? You blinked, feeling a very uneasy knot beginning to throb inside your throat. And they wanted you to meet her face to face?

"Ok, you only make things sound weird," Frank waved Herman away like an annoying fly as he turned to face you, "Anna used to have a thing for kidnapping survivors like Feng, Meg, Nacy- anyone young and female, basically, and would try to take care of them. Some fucking bullshit about losing a kid or something- we don't know. She's just weird that way."

"Anna doesn't mean any harm," Sally inquired in her gentle voice, "She simply wants to make sure that you're safe."

Somehow, even if the story was heavily tampered with, you felt magically relieved. At least her 'reputation' wasn't as how you first imagined it. You'd have to be more careful when it came to taking in Herman's exploits. You look up at the three around you and find yourself curiously asking in your light tone, "She can't speak English though?"

"Not entirely," Sally rolled her eyes up and swayed lightly as if showing innocence.

Frank scuffed and rolled his eyes as he pointed his thumb at the floating woman and said, "That basically just means 'fuck no',"

"What language does she speak?" You ask, curious as you came up with predictions inside your mind.

"Totally disabled."

"We are not for certain."

"Swedish."

They all answered at once causing you to flutter your lashes in even further confusion. Frank was the first to lean forward to mumble with a wink, "Disabled..."

Herman took his turn to wave the young man aside, "We honestly hold no knowledge of her true language."

"Only that we don't understand it," Sally topped off with that somehow endearing innocence that she had politely mastered.

"Hey Doc, is everything 'lright out here?" Evan asked as he pushed open one side of the swinging door, "Bub and thems' gettin' pretty worried in 'ere."

Herman turned in his best friend's direction and offered a very indefinite expression of precise joy. "Tell them we will be in shortly. All is well. We are simply meeting up with Anna and the others."

Evan nodded in confirmation, gave everyone a quick once over- most specifically you- and then disappeared back in through the doors. You gazed in the leader's direction a few moments longer than everyone else, your heart fluttering with curiosity, hesitancy and gratitude. You were still quite overwhelmed. You kind of just wanted to sit down and relax in silence for a few moments, let the intensity of the day settle and expand until completely absorbed inside your overwhelmed mind. The setting sun and flourishing stars provided hopeful intel that maybe the day was finally fixing to be over. Where would you stay? You wondered.

In the distance there was the sound of vast, loud footsteps that had you turning to face the outskirts of the town. And there you saw her. The Huntress; clad in her brown, fur dress. She had extremely short hair, you realized with astonishment and envy. Accompanying her was Danny, Joey and two young girls whom you did not completely recognize, but figured was part of the Legion. They all appeared to be struggling to keep up with the vast woman who's demonic, black eyes were dead set on you as she seemingly quickened her pace.

You felt yourself stiffen, afraid that she had ill intent as she all but rushed up the steps, her foreign language spilling out faster than a waterfall. She gestured heavily to you as she stopped just a meter before you, her voice loud and thorough but completely incomprehensible. "Now Anna," Sally attempted to interject but only succeeded in getting a large finger pointed in her face.

Anna balled her hand into a fist as she spewed an opera of words you could not distinguish, her visual expressions quite significant as she more or less ranted on and on. At one point you saw her gesture angirly at Danny before lifting her hands in a shrug as she heaved a heavy sigh. "Umm..." You had uttered a great many times.

"Just tell her you're doing fine," Frank murmured behind you.

You straightened your intimidated posture once the large woman began to slow down, and smile to the best of your abilities. Out of all the killers, you were starting to think she was the most intimidating... and scary. "I-I'm alright, thank you," You say, feeling awkward and uncertain about what else you could say or if she would even understand you.

The large woman took a slow step forward, her eyes closing as she nodded and mumbled what almost sounded like prayer or soft praise. She put both her hands on your shoulders, her touch light and gentle as she bowed her head and said a few more things before offering an enlightened smile at you. She patted your shoulder and you felt your lips wobble to try and keep smiling, your heart pounding in fear inside your chest. At least she didn't seem to leak any intention of harm or malice.

"We are helping her," Said Sally, her voice slow and somewhat loud as she signaled the Huntress' attention, "She is safe."

Anna's hands slipped from your shoulders as she turned to walk over to the floating woman, her voice a light rant as she began to speak once again. You watched as Sally nodded her head patiently as if she were used to the woman's very obnoxious, loud, incomprehensible attitude. Maybe they were friends. You smiled, feeling a great pressure lift off your chest.

Something tapped your shoulder causing you to lightly wince, head turning to see a girl wearing a maroon t-shirt and jeans that were in similar condition as Franks. She had mid-length, brown hair that was pulled into a sloppy ponytail, her light brown eyes twisted into a casual smile as she gazed at you. A few feet behind her there timidly stood another girl wearing an oversized, old hoodie and torn up tights. She had faded pink hair, her eyes averted to the ground in a manner that was almost shy.

"What's up?" The more spry looking woman asked causing you to blush and fiddle bashfully with your handkerchief.

"Umm, nothing," You say awkwardly even though technically a lot was up, but of course you weren't going to say that.

The woman grinned, her shoulders lifting in a shrug as she gazed to the man standing beside you. "Well, Claudius, you gonna introduce us or what?" She chuckled, her laugh true and soothing to the ears.

"Right," Frank stumbled across the deck, one hand shoved into his pocket as he gestured to the first woman with a small smile, "This is Julie, and that there... That's Susie- she's a pussy so don't think too much about the cowering, and she-owe..."

"I'm sorry about Frank," Julie grabbed a fist full of the man's hair, grinning as she shook his head, "As I'm sure you've probably noticed, he's kind of an ass."

"Hey-"

"It's nice to meet you though," She smiled innocently, letting Frank go of her rough grip before gesturing back at the pink haired girl, "Susie is shy but she'll open up to you eventually. Come on, Sus..."

At that moment, an awfully familiar black portal appeared over your head causing you to immediately pale with dread and sad anticipation. "No..." You whispered, taking a step back but your body felt instantly frozen. Not again. Why couldn't the trials be over with already? You had already been through so much today. 

"Try not to stress too much, (y/n) my dear," You turn to look back at the Doctor with blurring vision, your body heavy with sorrow and misfortune, "We are here."

Only the sight of everyone's gentle smiles of understanding and acceptance gave you mild confidence that maybe you would be able to make it through this next trial unscathed and non-traumatized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna allow comments for a while. I'm afraid I'll lose my spark for writing slasher fanfiction like I let myself do for other Fandoms. As much as I love ya'lls comments, I'd hate to lose my passion even more.
> 
> Comments will be allowed on the voting chapter. Thank you for understanding. I hope you still like this story and will stay with me as we sail on :')


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